Rhydar smiled when she looked up at him, when he noticed how they flickered to green for some time. He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers, bumping his nose against hers. He loved how her eyes were never the same color for long. It sometimes hinted towards how she was feeling at the moment, and it also reminded her of a diamond being looked at in different lights. "Sounds perfect to me as well. Could I have a kiss before the guests barge through the door? I think I can hear them in the palace."
Lily huffed a small laugh, her free hand lifting to rest lightly on his chest. He couldn't fully chase away her rising panic in the dress, but maybe his presence would help her make it through the ball so she could break in peace. So she could fall apart without eyes on her. "Of course. Fates, I really don't want to deal with that many people." She complained quietly, standing on her toes to press her lips gently to his.
Rhydar smiled sadly, though he dipped his head down to return the kiss, their lips molding together perfectly, slowly. He wanted to reassure her that she would be fine, that no one would go up to her like that man had the last event they've gone to. He might not know the extent of her worries, but he could still sense her slight agitation. So he tried to calm her with his touch, his kiss, anything that would help.
It did help, briefly. Kissing Rhydar was familiar and safe, allowing Lily to distract herself. And that was what she needed. Distraction after distraction. Something else to focus on.
So that’s what she did, kissed Rhydar with maybe just a hint of desperation, wanting to make the most of the time they had before they had to go back to pretending.
"I love you," Rhydar murmured against Lily's lips, not wanting to pull away but knowing that the stream of guests would arrive any second. As if on queue, Rhydar heard the distinct patter of noble footsteps, clicking from both men and women, dresses swishing as they dragged along the floor. He sighed and pulled Lily closer, not wanting to go away just yet. "I love you, not them," he grumbled.
Lily's response was cut off by her laugh as he spoke, and actual laugh. Musical as always. She pressed her face to his chest for a moment before taking a half step back, to kiss his cheek. "I love you too. Definitely you, not them. I don't think anyone loves the people interrupting them and causing headaches." She joked, poking his nose lightly.
He scrunched up his nose when she poked it, then returned the favor. "Unless, of course, the interruption is wanted and a headache gets you out of doing something. Then they are loved. But not in this case." He glanced over her shoulder at the growing crowd, then kissed her forehead and lingered some. "I gotta go. They'll be expecting me to greet them with my siblings."
“Good luck, dear. I hope it isn’t too unbearable. Should you need a break, I’m not exactly going anywhere yet.” Just as soon as she got the chance. But that wouldn’t be for a while. She shot him a small and soft smile as she slowly stepped away from him, fiddling with his ring. “I’m going to go see what I can find at the refreshment tables.”
Rhydar smiled and quickly pecked her lips, with a whispered "I love you," before he slipped away to plaster on a fake smile and greet the people there to grovel at his feet and cling to his arms in hopes of obtaining his affections. The twins took up their usual posts next to the refreshment tables, Cinthia subtly wiping off chocolate smears from the corners of her mouth while Wolf observed the people filling up the room. Both twins had the observational skills of a well-trained spy, though it wasn't always clear. Wolf was looking for a particular servant as they started to come out and serve the guests.
As Lily made her way over to the refreshments, she found herself scanning the guests around her. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but the anxious turning in her gut had her watching everything. There was nothing there for her to fear, yet here she was.
Yvonne slipped carefully through the crowds of people, reddish brown hair pulled into a bun on top of her head. She had two large trays in both hands, each covered in glasses of champagne. While she wasn't the most graceful, any other time, this seemed to bring out the balance she couldn't find any other time. Oh well, at least it kept her from being punished. Sometimes that's all that matters, it feels like. Her eyes found Wolf just seconds before he found her, and she shot him a smile, making her way in his direction slowly.
Wolf spotted his favorite serving girl as she made her way over to him, and he bit back his grin as he straightened some, allowing a friendly smile to slip through. Cinthia glanced over and rose a brow, then tracked where Wolf was looking and found Yvonne. "New friend?" she questioned out loud, tilting her head. Cinthia was perhaps the only one that was fully in the know of Wolf's sexuality, as they often swapped sentiments on the attractiveness of certain men they decided to pick on. Cinthia was much picker then Wolf was, but they usually came to an agreement. Wolf shifted and busied himself with fixing the lapels of his jacket. "I ran into her earlier and invited a friendly face for this thing. Gods know Mother isn't the best with servants." Cinthia snorted and smoothly caught a glass of champagne between her fingers, lifting it off the tray of a passing servant that hadn't spotted them.
Yvonne eventually made it to the twins, her trays lighter than they had been when she'd first come out. She shifted the tray closer to Wolf, offering him a drink as she looked around the room. "I can never get over just how many people come to these things." She said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I have been called 'the help' seven times already, and felt up twice. I think this might be a new record." There was a light tone to her voice, though, like she'd resigned herself to her position and decided to make the most of it. Thus had been born the betting rings in the servant's quarters, involving spats of different kinds at balls, drama, and things that grew more and more specific depending on certain guests. Somehow, she always managed to make the most money off of them. It pays to watch people. "How have you been? And how are you, your Highness?" She asked, directing her words at both Cin and Wolf.
Wolf smiled and gratefully took a drink, taking a long and deep sip from it before looking back to Yvonne and listening to her talk about the people. He chuckled and nodded his head towards the general crowd. "I apologize for those heathens. I swear, the more 'classy' and 'noble' they claim to be, the more like animals they become. I've met those of lesser class with more class than all of them grouped together." He downed the rest of his drink while his twin answered Yvonne's question directed towards Cinthia, as it was habitual between the two of them to talk in turns.
"I've been… Alright," Cinthia said slowly, realizing that she didn't need to put up a front with this girl her brother was so casually talking to. She blinked, doing a mind and body check. "Haven't slept much, and I think I might be coming down with another illness, and I'm certain I'm seeing things again."
Wolf frowned at Cinthia, even though he knew about her condition, then offered Yvonne a smaller smile than the one he had greeted her with. "Needless to say, we could be better."
Yvonne listened carefully, her eyes flickering from twin to twin, then to passerby as she offered drinks silently, still keeping up with work. When Cinthia mentioned possibly being sick, she tilted her head, focusing on the princess and not avoiding eye contact. She had heard plenty of things about Cinthia, things that scared the younger servants, but the girl in front of her seemed too small and calm to be the insane figure the ghost stories were told about. There was a possibility she was putting up a front, but Yvonne didn’t get too many bad vibes from her. Just strange ones.
“My mama used to have this cure-all for illness. Some blend of teas and herbs that she used to sell. It would knock you out for a full night of sleep, and when you woke up, you would hardly even realize you had been sick.” She said, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face. “I could try and replicate it, if you would like. It’s highly unlikely you have ever tried this one, though it might not work. If what I’ve heard about your ailments is true….” She shook her head, smiling slightly at Cinthia. “Just let me know. In any case, Wolf, you do not have to apologize for those men. If they cannot do it themselves, then it is a waste of your breath. I am used to it.”
Cinthia eyed Yvonne for quite some time, possibilities going through her head in rapid succession. Sleep like that sounded tremendous, but there had to be a catch. Not to mention all the work she was taking off of Rhydar's plate without his knowledge. It was clear from her brother's disinterest in being King that he was planning on stepping down, and Magnus already had plans to move to Kora's country with her, so that would be a useless King to this country. Wolf was younger than her, so she was the natural heir. She couldn't afford any more compromises to her health and capabilities. What if this 'cure-all' did something Cinthia couldn't predict? Or Yvonne?
While his twin overthought the offer like how she overthought everything, Wolf smiled warmly at Yvonne. "Well, what if I said you wouldn't have to?" he asked, then went on before she could say anything. "I'm planning on asking my mother to order a transfer. You'll be constantly on the clock, but I highly doubt you'll be doing half the tedious work my mother orders. There's just one condition," he added, sliding his hands into his pockets after setting his empty glass down and smirking, "if you agree."
Yvonne blinked when Wolf spoke, her gaze moving from his twin to him, head tilting further. "I-a transfer? To where?" She asked, something in her eyes sparkling, like a glimmer of hope she was being careful to not let herself quite express. She really did hate this. Hated being grabbed suddenly, orders piling onto eachother and leaving her drowning amidst a sea of exhausted effort to keep up. I miss the roads, and the mountains. Too bad I'll never see them again, at this rate. "And what is this condition? I do not think making any sort of agreement without knowing what each aspect of that agreement is is smart, or in my best interest. Let alone yours, if I could not handle what was thrown at me."
Wolf practically melted at the sight of that glint of hope in the girl's eyes. This is what he hated about his mother's treatment of the servants. They were beneath her, no better than human mules she could order around until they dropped, as replaceable as toothpicks. That's what pissed him off the most, how she thought of them. But he couldn't do anything about it besides this small act of rebellion. Wolf smiled and slid a hand out of his pocket, holding it out palm-up to Yvonne. "A transfer to me, as my personal servant. And the only condition is that you be a friend, not 'the help' as you've been oh-so-kindly called."
Yvonne's wary expression split into a hopeful smile. Though still slightly wary, the expression somehow gave off a vibe, a feeling, like the sight of the sun peeking over mountains early in the morning, mist rolling around one's feet as early light made it's appearance. "Oh, that doesn't seem horrible. I was expecting something very much different." She admitted, handing off the last glass on her tray to a man who's eyes lingered on her a bit too long, and who's departure brought him a bit too close to her. "I would love that, though. Only as long as it doesn't get you in trouble, the request."
"If my mother has a problem with it–"
"–she can take it up with me," Cinthia smoothly said, sipping from her glass with her eyes on the crowd. "I'll try your miracle medicine, if only because everything the healers have tried is only temporary and never last long." The princess' gaze settled on Yvonne for a moment, a flicker of trust in her artificially colored eyes before she turned them back to the crowd.
Wolf glanced over at his sister, then looked back at Yvonne with a shrug and smile. "If anyone can get anyone to shut up, it's Cin. I'd hate to see you constantly overworked because of her arrogance, so consider it an offer of partial freedom. It's the most I can offer, despite being a prince. Honestly, it seems like the higher ranking you are, the less you are actually allowed to do."
"Rules and restrictions come with being seen, Wolf." Yvonne said, her smile growing slightly. She did love helping, even if she hated her job here at the palace. And Cinthia's trust and willingness to try a remedy so special to her filled her with a warm feeling. Her mother's legacy wasn't about to go to waste, just because Yvonne's shoes never met the dirt and gravel of a travelling road, nor her skin the fresh air of mountain breath and sunlight. "I will have the drink for you as soon as I can, your Highness. If you are worried, however, you are welcome to watch me make it. Trusting drinks from anyone in this place is a gamble, one of which I am well aware." She wrinkled her nose slightly, smile wavering. "And thank you. Both of you. You can call it 'not much', but it seems to someone like me a lot like everything."
Cinthia looked back over to Yvonne and dipped her head slowly in a nod. She would watch Yvonne, if only to learn how to do it so she could do it herself if it worked. With that over with, Wolf smiled warmly and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest to examine Yvonne and her expressions. She seemed happy to have the opportunity, and there was something else underneath that. He wanted to help her, he really did, and it starts with this small retaliation against his mother and typical royal-commoner interaction. He spread his arms out and offered a crooked grin.
Yvonne stilled, furrowing her brows in confusion at Wolf for a moment before realizing what he wanted. A hug? The prince was offering her a hug? She opened her mouth to ask what he was thinking, but paused, instead handing off her trays to a passing servant headed towards the kitchens, and stepped forward. Without giving herself the chance to second guess this, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug that carried a surprising strength. And a whole lot of gratefulness. "I owe you one, for this. Any time, any place."
Wolf immediately wrapped his arms around Yvonne and hugged her tightly but not too much so that it seems constricting. He rested his head on her shoulder and murmured, "You don't owe me anything." And she really didn't. This was of his own free will, and what he would be gaining from it wouldn't need anything from Yvonne. "Just stay safe until I can get my mother to stop being a bully," he added with a soft chuckle.
"I will do my best." Yvonne promised, huffing a small laugh at that. She would, try at least. She couldn't make any promises though. Working here, especially as an on call servant, was never ideal when it came to safety. But she could at least do her best to avoid finding herself in trouble. "And again, thank you. I might have to say it a million times."
Lily had made it so long. She'd done so well, pushing down the uprising panic, even as her hands began to shake. But the more times people bumped into her, the more the roar of chatter and music began to get to her, the more panicked she became. Even her beloved strawberries couldn't save her. She couldn't even bring herself to eat them. All she could do was nurse a glass of bubbly champagne, eyeing the refreshment table and wondering if it was worth trying again. Just to get her mind off of the fog invading, the darkness enroaching on her rational thought. Just a little longer. Just a bit more. Then you can slip out unnoticed. Its going to be okay.
Wolf smiled and lightly kissed Yvonne's cheek. "Anytime, sweet, anytime."
Rhydar lost count of the drinks he's had, but he was aware enough to know that he was slightly tipsy. He was getting irritated with all the people trying to hog his attention, ladies swarming him and asking questions about the 'clearly false' rumors about him and Lily. Just the thought that they didn't believe he could possibly pick a commoner had him wanting to leave, but he knew he couldn't ditch without due cause. So, he settled with seeing Lily again and letting her steal his attention for a bit.
He spotted her in the crowd and did what he normally did—snuck up behind her for a surprise hug. He didn't yet realize she was stressed already, and the alcohol had addled his mind enough to make him forget to be careful when touching her, so he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. "Hey," he murmured.
When an arm wrapped around her waist, Lily froze. And that was the end of her composure and iron-walls in her mind. In the back of her mind, she made the connection to Rhydar, the soft touches and quiet voice and the scent of pine, but all she could focus on was the alcohol on his breath, and the arm around her waist. Gentle as it was, it felt all too much like an arm she knew too well. Her glass slipped from her hands, the shaking growing worse and making it impossible for her to hold anything as she tried to move.
Tried, but couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to take a step away. It wouldn't solve everything, but it might have helped. If only she had been able to make her feet move, to make her lips move, to move anything beyond the shaking as she stood frozen in place, shattered glass and champagne at her feet and nothing but a blank expression on her face. It's Rhydar. It's just Rhydar. But it didn't feel like Rhydar, with the memory her mind was playing like a movie in her head. A voice in her ear, hands on her waist, then thighs. She drew into herself, searching desperately for her happy place and finding it was gone, finding herself stuck viewing both the world around her and the memory she wanted erased from her mind forever.
Rhydar knew something was wrong almost instantly, that alone enough to sober him up. A glass shattered at Lily's feet, and that was all the movement he could see from her. Beyond that, she was as still as a statue, barely breathing, barely reacting to the world around her. He slowly retracted his arm, not wanting to move too fast and spook Lily, and stepped away. He didn't move too far away, just enough to maneuver himself around her so he was standing in front of her. "Lily," he said softly, "Lily darling, it's me." He reached out to her out of instinct, but his hands stopped halfway to her arms, fingers curling in and dropping to his sides.
Panic, he suddenly realized, she's panicking. It was similar to that of when Cinthia broke down randomly when the hallucinations got bad, though his sister was more disturbing than this. He pushed that train of thought aside and repeated Lily's name again, keeping a safe distance from her. Bystanders were starting to form around them, desperate for some gossip. Rhydar whirled on them and snarled at them to back the fuck off, startling them all. From nowhere, Demitri smoothly stepped in and shepherded them away with a distraction, though Rhydar's attention was back on Lily, so he didn't know what the spy had done to garner their attention so quickly.
Lily was only half aware of what was going on around her, and entirely unable to compute it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but grab her forearms and grip them hard enough to draw blood beneath her nails, even as Rhydar tried to get her attention and as Demetri removed the people crowding around and making her panic worse. Breathe, breathe, breathe but she couldn't breathe, all she could do was shake.
There was a voice. Right in her ear, the ghost of the demon that refused to leave her alone the most. Riko, whispering, taunting her as she swayed on her feet, trying as hard as she could not to hit the floor. "You are nameless now, you are mine. Do not think anyone will ever save you. You belong here now. Nothing but a money making tool."
Anything he could try to help Lily was either risky or already not working. Rhydar didn't know what to do. He knew that they were causing a scene yet again and that it was the last thing Lily would want to happen, so he had to think fast. They needed to leave, now. But anything he'd do would trigger her, and she wasn't in the greatest state of mind to give him any indication that she was okay with something or that she even heard him. She wasn't responding to him calling her name. His eyes narrowed in on the bubbling of blood beneath her nails.
Rhydar clenched his jaw and stepped forward, dipping his head down so he could whisper into her ear. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He wasted no time and snuck his fingers around her arm, prying it out of her grasp. His grip was firm and unrelenting, not about to let her go in her panic. With his other arm, he wrapped an arm around her body and used that as a way to force her body to move out of its position while his grip on her arm kept her from clawing at herself and him, at least for the most part.
He dragged her out of the ballroom and into the hall, though he didn't stop once they were out. Something else was up. So he did what he did last time and pulled her into the courtyard, the night almost prickling with its low temperature. He sat her down onto the edge of the fountain, dipping his fingers into the running water and running it over her brow, nose, cheeks, collarbones, arms. He swiped his damp and freezing thumb over the veins of the inside of her wrist, dripped some water over her brow so it trailed down her nose in racing droplets. "Lily, come back to me," he pleaded softly.
Lily thrashed exactly once. One movement, kind of a half hearted jerking, before going limp against him. Her feet moved on some autopilot instinct, carrying her along disjointedly as Rhydar led her out of the ballroom. Without the pain in her arm, she had nothing else to focus on, sinking further and further into her own mind and memories until-
Cold. Her face was cold. Why was it cold? This didn’t fit the memory in her mind, didn’t fit the replayed events. Then her collarbone, her arms and her wrists. Cold. It worked, much better than the pain had, at pulling her out of herself a bit. She could hear now. The crickets, the soft gurgle of the stream, the cool air and Rhydar’s voice. She just…couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but shake as the water droplets dripped down her nose, still feelings phantom hands on her skin. It took her so long, what felt like hours but was maybe twenty minutes at most. It took her so long to finally lift one hand, tugging desperately at the fabric of the blasted red dress, eyes meeting his. They were dark. Dark and pleading, scared and trying to convey the harm the dress was causing. Even if he had been the trigger, he was the only person she trusted to help her.
