Fantasy A Royal Engagement [Closed]

“To the Tavern," Bramble replied in response to Damon's question. “To make sure Ana doesn't get reckless or too drunk. ”

“Because you worry for her, do you not?”

“Yes.” She sucked in a breath at the first jab and pull of the needle.

“And why is that?”

“No idea … Mostly because Ana has taken… care of us ever … since Mother took ill and … died.”

“And what are your thoughts on her fiancé?”

“He digs …” She breathed. Damon was going very fast. He had already tied off two stitches and was starting another.

“And what does he find?”

“He has his page … the young boy. He's investigating our court …” The pain was doubling with each fresh prick and pull. “Cartier says he's looking at the nobels… he eavesdropped on their discussion … he's looking at … someone. Your uncle was . . . A big discussion last night.”

“Emile?”

“That is what Cartier heard in … the middle … of the conversation. We have … to tread carefully. The Prince … must not suspect… me… to have... spies.”

“Did Frederick speak with Ana?”

“Yes, there was too … much noise for Cartier to hear. But he was careful. He has not revealed his true self… we need… to get rid of him... before three months... without hurting anything.” Unlike Damon, who was killing her.

“And where does your sister stand on this? Do you believe there will ever be love?”

Sophia took a moment to grip the bed frame. “No. Ana plays her … game too… close to love him. She knows … he plays his own game as well …”

“And she will continue her sharade”

“That’s why she … doesn't want us to make a move. If we challenge him he will invesigate us, and drop his… sharade.”

“And what of your plans? Will you keep jumping out windows at night? What will you do with Frederick?”

She held the wooden post harder. Those plans were her own, her only undiscovered secret it seemed. Truthfully, she still had to figure out how to get rid of Frederick without starting a war. But she'd be damned if she let Frederick boff off with Ana and the kingdom. But Bramble was beyond thinking of a lie to tell about her plans for thievery. For the moment, she was beyond speaking.

“There!” Damon said, running a sleeve across his brow. “Twenty-two. That is not so bad. I am a marvel, am I not? My uncle Renè says I am the fastest in the city.”

Bramble didn’t answer. She was sure her face must be white.

He dabbed at the newly bleeding wound with the bandage she’d been wearing, and then leapt up, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt. Her eyes followed as he retrieved Abenthy's bottle, then widened as he got right on the bed and straddled her, one knee to her back and one to her stomach, pinning her legs down with his weight. Bramble realized what he was about, allowed herself a sigh, and got a tighter hold on the bed frame.

“Apologies, my love,” he said, right before he tipped the bottle over the wound. Her body jerked of its own accord, but he had her held tight beneath him. She squeezed her eyes shut. He poured once more, liquid running down her stomach and back, not unlike the tears she could feel leaking down each side of her face.

She stayed still, panting as the weight of him left her and she heard the bottle being set back on the table. When she opened her eyes again he had taken off his shirt, ripping methodically, tearing away another strip from the bottom. His back was a little tanned, muscled, like the men of the Lower City. Not what she would expect from the Upper. And equally unexpected was the sharp glance of bright-green curiosity she intercepted when his eyes darted toward hers. But the expression was gone almost before she’d known it was there, and he came back to the bed, standing over her with no shirt and a smile that came straight from the old Damon.

“May I?”

She watched as he knelt down, lifting her body just enough to slide the strip of cloth beneath her, almost formal as he wrapped the wound again, and again, tight. While he was tying, Bramble reached cautiously, respecting the pain in her side, and grabbed the bottle from the table beside the cot. She emptied the rest of its contents into the glass, turned her face to brush the wet streaks from her cheeks, took a small sip, and then silently held out the glass to Damon. He laughed once before he took it, and by the time she’d gotten herself painfully upright, the last of Abenthy's whiskey was gone.

Damon sat next to her on the bed. “And how is your head, my love?”

It was awful. He reached over and ran a finger very delicately over the bump at her hairline, and when he put his arm back down again, it was behind her on the mattress. Bramble only just kept one of her eyebrows from rising.

“You never told me of your plans,” he said, voice much closer. “What will you do about your nightly activities?”

She remembered to be coy and peeked up at Damon from the corner of her eye. “ I don’t know. Maybe I'll give up.”

“Do you curl it on purpose?”

She drew her brows together in question and Damon again lifted a finger to one of the blonde waves tucked behind her ear. She was fairly sure it had dried mud on it. “Sometimes,” she replied.

“But not when you ride?”

“No, not when I ride. You are so full of questions, Damon.”

She was on high alert now. Damon had a look about him, something about the slightly parted lips. It was dangerous. And fascinating. She forgot her pain for the moment and waited, curious to see what he would do. What he did was lean in closer, loose hair brushing her shoulder, his eyes half-closed. He smelled like wood and resin; she’d thought it would have been perfume.

“You have such pretty skin, Bramble Evrole. Like delicate snow. What do you call it?”

“Porcelain?”

“Yes, porcelain.”

A draft moved across the flickering room, but Bramble didn’t.

“And now that we have been so intimate,” he whispered, voice low in her ear, “do you not think we should discuss something more then friends, my love? Or …” He still had fingers on the other side of her face, playing with her hair. “Are you afraid of what your sisters may think?”

Bramble didn’t breathe. He was going to kiss her. She ought to say something, back away, tell him to stop. But she didn’t. Instead she wondered what it might feel like to be kissed by a daughter stealer. Turn her head just a little, and she would find out. The air hummed, full of static, stubble just brushing along her jaw. Her eyes closed on their own. And then Damon's cheek slipped to her shoulder, leaning there for just a moment before falling straight down onto the bed like a stone.

She opened her eyes and waited, drawing a shaky breath, and when she was sure he was not going to move she lifted his arm from her lap and scooted off the bed, wincing as she stood. She looked at Damon as he lay facedown on the mattress, running a hand through the curls behind her ear, brushing away a few small grains of white powder that had stuck to her fingers. The same white powder that had been hidden beneath the pale stone of the ring that was around her finger. The same white powder she had poured from the ring into Damon's whiskey glass.

Then she walked slowly to the brick fireplace mantle, dizzy and a little sick, found the glass vial stored behind a couple loose bricks, refilled the cavity in her ring, clicked it shut, and one by one blew out the lamp and the candles. It took a long time. When the only light left was the fire, she looked again at the bed and sighed. With difficulty and not a small amount of pain, she bent and managed to pull Damon off the bed with a sound thump and drag him across her floor, stuffing him into her grand wardrobe. No, definitely not Upper City. He had the body of a man who’d been working a ship, and it certainly wasn't from just thieving either. She threw the damp and bloody blanket over his chest. The bedroom was going to get cold, especially for as long as he was about to sleep. She'd have to get Ms. Graybe to wash the sheets, including this blanket.

She banked up the fire, retrieved her belt and knife, breathing hard, and then paused again. For someone who had made it a point not to look at Damon Hasard’s face, she certainly had stared at it enough today. He was still something wild, dark red-brown hair everywhere, wrapped in a blanket smelling distinctly of homemade bevvy. But the daughter stealer had been replaced by someone different. A bit like Damon when they were little. Almost innocent, but not quite. And he was beautiful.

Bramble stepped back. Damon Hasard was not innocent, and therefore could not be beautiful. He had blood under his nails, not just hers, but the blood of the dozens—maybe even almost a hundred—who had died in an "accident". Like anyone who chose to ally themselves with Emile. And he would not be sharing anything he’d seen in this room with that particular man tonight.

She had almost let him kiss her. She should never, ever think about that again. She turned the key and locked Damon in the dark wardrobe.


“Jeez I don’t know, Cartier. What should I have done?” Bramble leaned back into the pillows, having just vomited for the second time into the bowl Ms. Graybe held out for her. She was glad she had at least waited until now for that humiliation.

“Let her alone,” Ms. Graybe chided. “She’ll rip that cut open if she keeps this up.”

Cartier stopped pacing about her room and sat down in the edge of the bed, tapping his foot to take out his frustration. He glanced at the wardrobe.

“It is well sewn,” said Ms. Graybe, peeking beneath the blanket, where Cartier could not see. She handed Bramble a wet cloth for her face.

“I’m shocked a man like that would know how to do it,” Cartier commented. “And how in the name of the holy saints is he getting out of the wardrobe?”

Bramble shook her head. She didn’t know. There was much, she now realized, that they did not know about Damon Hasard. They might not know anything about him at all. “And where is the other one?” Cartier continued. “What’s his name?”

“Maven,” Ms. Graybe replied.

Cartier turned to Bramble. “Did Hasard mention where he was?”

She shook her head. They’d been careless about Maven—just like they had on watching Damon , because they trusted him for years, but now his manservant, misjudging Maven's potential in the same way they had always depended on others underestimating Ms. Graybe. A stupid mistake. The kind that could get someone’s head cut off.

“Then the question is,” Cartier said, “how soon might there be a hue and cry over his missing master?”

Bramble sighed. “Graybe, go into the Upper City, Damon's house and see if you can find Maven. Tell him that Damon sends word that he’s with his...friend, and might not return until just before dinner. Make it seem … you can make it seem as if he’s in my rooms, if you want. I doubt Maven will question you then.” Bramble ignored the soft swearing coming from Cartier's chair. “We’ll think of some other excuse before dinner. Perhaps Damon will be ill.” Likely he already was. She looked to Cartier. “Do you agree?”

He nodded. Ms. Graybe, grim as ever, patted her head once and hurried out Bramble's door. Cartier leaned back in his chair, rubbing a rough chin. “Emile knew that you would come. It was a trap.”

“But I think,” Bramble ventured, “that he did not expect the window.”

“Perhaps not.”

Bramble closed her eyes, trying not to remember the way it had felt to pull a knife out of a dead man. “Is there news from the manor?”

“Oh, yes. It’s all over the kingdom of Argonia in sure. Burglary and murder. They’re tracking the scent west. I left clothing much farther away, it'll take the guards all day to figure out it's a dead end. The nobels are enraged, they suspect the Thief has struck again, but this time, killed someone.” Cartier waited, but Bramble didn’t say anything. “And the dead man was a stranger to you?”

“Yes. Was he Emile's?”

“Must’ve been. He was a stranger to everyone. And who do you think killed him?”

Bramble's eyes opened. “Wasn’t it me?”

“Did you clean your knife?”

“No.” Bramble thought back to the fuzzy dark with the dogs barking and the unnatural silhouette of a knife sticking out of a chest. “It wasn’t my knife,” she said suddenly. “The handle was too thick. Did I have two knives when you spoke to me earlier?”

“No, only your own. Where is the other knife, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“And more to the point, whose knife was it, who put it into the stranger’s chest, and who else might have seen you climbing out a window of the manor?”

They were questions neither of them could answer.

Cartier said, “We are in a fix, my lovely friend.”

She nodded.

“But I am very glad you’re not dead.”

She smiled wanly from her pillow. She had considered long ago what might happen on one of the Thief missions, what was sure to happen if she was caught. She had thrown her death on the scale, weighed it out against her future, and made a choice. And that choice had been a secret shame to her. Personal fulfillment just wasn’t one’s top priority when the children were starving or raiders were cresting the hill. But Bramble Evrole had not been born into those dark times. She had been born into an enlightenment, an age of privilege, art, education, living in a way that her Evrole ancestors would not have dared to dream. And she’d been more than willing to risk it, everything her forebears had struggled to achieve, for nothing better than adventure and a challenge to her wits. When it came down to it, Bramble Evrole simply feared boredom more than she feared death.

But all of that had changed the first time she crawled into the window of a nobels. Being the Theif hadn’t been about adventure then. Suddenly it was about blood and disease and death and the children who watched their parents’ starved body's tossed into coffins because they could not afford a piece of bread. It was about injustice. Nobels had everything and some villages would do anything for food. It was about stealing from stuck up nobels and cheating the guards. And knowing that, in her opinion, only made her actions all the more reprehensible.

What sort of person went to the lengths she did to dam a flood of evil, and then lay awake at night dreading when there would be no more evil behind the dam? Without the Theif, she would be nothing but the girl she was before and the girl she would become: a wife, a princess, doing just as her mother and grandmother had, doomed to managing a house and having children leading a boring life of politics till the end of her days.

The truth was that Bramble Evrole went to the Upper City and stole because she didn’t know who she’d be anymore if she didn’t. If she was caught, she wouldn’t be sorry. She would only be sorry that the people she loved most would bear the pain of it.

“Tonight,” Cartier said, “let’s go on with this dinner as planned. Can you do it?”

Bramble nodded. She had to.
​

Edward was enjoying being sat out in the fresh air, listening to the peaceful sound of the nearby fountain as he admired the beautiful garden around him. As he glanced to the servants setting up for the festival, he couldn't help but realise the king was sparing no expense where this union was concerned. It seemed as each moment passed, the wedding going ahead was becoming more definite. He still hoped to find a way to free Ana from a marriage to the Elfian Prince without causing a war and risking more Argonian casualties.

He decided to talk a walk around the grounds, as he often did. He liked to take everything in and remember the intricate details around him, often noticing the slightest change. He'd already seen the gardener had finally removed the wilted red flower from the flowerbed by the fountain. He also noticed the one of the stone benches which was clean yesterday was now stained with what looked like blood, but he couldn't be sure if that's what it was. He certainly didn't have the slightest suspicion the blood belonged to Bramble. He was sure one of the servants would get to cleaning it up and in the meantime he would be sure to keep an eye out for anything else suspicious. Speaking of which, as the stables came into view, he noticed Rosie and Gwyn were together again. He didn't like to think ill of the knight, but she was one of Frederick's and Edward did feel protective over Rosie. For now, he would remain cautious and not risk upsetting the young princess.

When he saw Geoffrey nearby, Edward decided to speak with his friend. "Good morning, Geoffrey," he greeted him, clearly a little more upbeat than the last time they spoke. "How did the rest of your evening go? Did Olivia show you how to dance yet?" he playfully teased. However, he couldn't ignore the obvious and he turned more serious for a moment. "I'm sorry for rushing off last night and having you endure my burdens," he apologised. "Whilst your support was much appreciated, it was discourteous of me to dampen your spirits." He then perked up a little and faintly smiled as he placed his hands in his trouser pockets. "Ana and I spoke a short time later. I think we understand each other now," he explained, the relief evident in his voice.​

​

“Then, after dinner, we can go back here and deal with our friend.” Cartier sighed. “A shame, really. He seemed so harmless and arrogant at first.”

He was not harmless now. Bramble stared at the finely woven fibers of her linen sheets. Either the motion of her head or Cartier's words were making her ill.

“Blimey, Bramble,” Cartier said suddenly. “Don’t look like that. I wasn’t planning on murdering the man. I definitely prefer to bribe him. What do you think he wants?”

Bramble let out her breath. What did Damon Hasard want? She remembered the way his words had moved the curls near her ear. Had he wanted her to turn her head? That the thought had even crossed her mind seemed like treachery; that she was thinking it yet again was a capital offense. She’d never kissed anyone before. Had never wanted to. And the peck she’d given Damon when she was fourteen definitely did not count. She felt her face flushing and blinked long, in case Cartier could see her thoughts. She said, “I have no idea what Damon Hasard wants.”

“Then that’s what we have to find out tonight. What will be enough to get him to betray his uncle and his city? And to drop this marriage proposal.”

Bramble looked up sharply. “What about the King?”

“Your father won't know, this conversation won't leave this room. ” Cartier assured, but Bramble wasn't convinced. She had to little dowry and too much mouth, no gentlemen likes that.
The King would be lucky to have anyone take her.

And anyone included Damon Hasard.

Bramble shut her eyes, heart aching like her head. If Damon was working with Emile, then maybe there would have never been a marriage proposal in the first place. But the letter had said he might go through with it. He was a noble, which would just enlighten Father more. If Damon proposed, Bramble didn't think she'd be in a position to refuse. “Cartier …”

“Please, Bramble. It’s one thing for your father to sell you off to a prat. It’s another to sell you off to spend your holidays with the likes of Emile." Cartier said, "He does care about you, he just may not show it."

Bramble snorted and arched an eyebrow as if to say, 'Oh really?'

Cartier walked over to the window that overlooked the flowing gardens, eyeing the bloody stone bench and watching Edward walk by it. “For five years your father did little, and for three of those years he’s done nothing with you and your sisters. I know he’s lost without your Mother, but … they’re his mistakes, Bramble.”

Bramble sighed. Then Damon would just have to be bribed. But if she pulled out those scales again, weighing the things Damon Hasard might wish for against what she could give, she was very afraid that the they were going to come up wanting.

They were going to come up wanting no matter what.


It had been tedious and exhausting to get all the mud and blood off her skin and hair, especially without soaking her still-oozing cut. Ms. Graybe demanded that she spent a good part of the day in bed. Of course, that's raise suspicion and she couldn't do that at all. With plenty of powder to cover paleness and shadowed circles. Her dress was a rich burgundy, a color originally chosen to set off her skin, today chosen to not immediately show a bloodstain. She’d never been more grateful for a tightly tied corset, though there was nothing she could do about the terrible ache in her head.

Bramble walked out of her room, shooting one glance at the locked wardrobe before walking out with Cartier at her side, the two speaking in hushed voices as they walked outside and began to head for the stables. She had to check her saddle for blood and other things. She'd been careless that morning. ​

There was no doubt that she was going to get scolded for not wearing her corset but who the hell cares? Her internal organs needed a break from being pushed and pulled around so she did away with it. As she took her bath and got ready for such an "exciting" day, she began to think about the events of last night. Had she really laid with Edward last? If she had that meant everything was true and had really happened. Mostly the part about her father. He was sick and dying and she was the only on of her sisters' to know this secret. She thought about how she was going to tell them, if she was going to at all. It wasn't something she wanted to get out there so soon, especially not with Frederick being in their kingdom. All of it was so stressful and she sighed, sinking down into her bath. All she wanted to do was get away from it all with... And this is where she began to get confused. Never before had she thought about Edward or Geoffrey but now she was. Is this what being a normal young girl was about? Being totally confused about your feelings for two lifelong friends? If it was, it sucked. The only thing that sucked more was that she didn't know how she felt about Geoffrey. They both made her feel better when she was down and that's something she held near and dear to her heart but now it was the very thing that was confusing her. Then for whatever reason, the thought of her loving or falling in love with Frederick crossed her mind and she mistakenly spoke out. "Over my dead body." She said to herself, looking around making sure no one heard her. When she was finished sulking, she decided she would get dressed.

The dress she decided to wear was a simple royal purple one. It was more of slip really. Her remained down even though her maids kept insisting she wear it up. She then asked one if her sisters' were already up. Apperantly she had slept through the whole wake up call and they were already wandering around. She thought about going to see her father and talking with him, but decided against it only because she knew he was way too busy with things for the moment. Of course, later in the day, she would speak it him. With her responsibilities taken care of for a while, she walked down to the kitchen where her bowl of strawberries and grapes were waiting. It was the only thing she would eat in the morning, everything else making her feel sick to her stomach. It was then that she was informed that her sister was seen walking around with a boy. She rolled her eyes, as if that was ever new news to her. However, she was feeling particularly playful for the moment, something she rarely felt these days, and sought her out. A little teasing of her younger sibling wouldn't hurt, now would it?​

Bramble and Cartier moved through the hallways and rooms to go outside, mummering more about Emile Hasard and then the great mess in her wardrobe. She'd locked her door of course, but she'd have Cartier watch Frederick anyway. The last thing she needed at this moment was him to search her room. Not like he would anyway. After all, she was just a harmless girl. With a drugged man in her wardrobe.

"I could've left some gear on my saddle, as well as some blood, and oh joy, there's blood on the bench in the garden as well, hopefully not a blood trail," Bramble said under her breath to Cartier, sliding somewhat against the wall for support as they walked, Cartier nodded, storing the information in his head.

Everything hurt. There was the searing pain at her side which she was sure was already leaking blood again, but would blend with the burgundy dress, her head throbbed painfully, and any movement in her bruised wrists was killing her from when Emile grasped them the night before.

She hadn't told anyone of Emile's demand. She couldn't. Somehow he knew everything, probably due to his clever nephew. She had to find a paper in three months, track someone down without leaving the palace for more then two hours, but worst of all, kill someone. Her knees weakened at the sight of the dead man in the dark, the knife in his chest. Her insides felt a cold dread seeping into her bones.

"Bramble!"

Her eyes snapped open, Cartier had her by the arms and was staring at her with alarmed brown eyes, she glanced around realizing they had stopped in the hallway, and people were staring. Cartier was only fifteen, so naturally, this looked both alarming and weird. Especially since he was a servant.

"I'm fine," Bramble snapped, swatting Cartier's arm off a shoulder, he hesitated, his gaze flicked to her side to check if it was bleeding. It wasn't. Yet.

"Are you sure you should be up-"

"If I'm not it'd only rouse suspicion as to why I didn't make an appearance. With Frederick toddling about with his little spy." Bramble cut in as they began walking and entered the main entrance hall.

Her eyes caught sight of a purple dress and she turned to see Ana enter the room, coming from the direction of the kitchens. She breathed out a silent breath of relief, glad her conversation with Cartier was over. She whispered for him to find out what he could on Frederick and his page for now, before she casually dismissed him with a wave of her hand as if he was just a normal servant

Bramble grinned wryly at Ana, distantly remembering the black outline of Ana dart quietly out of Edward's room in the dark the night before when she had snuck out of her own room to meet Cartier in the library. She strided over to Ana, winning a mighty struggle not to flinch from the searing pain in her side from moving at a normal pace.

Bramble's eyes narrowed as she walked up to Ana, like a fox amoung chickens. "Well, welll, wee-elll, don't you look nice!" Bramble said , arching an eyebrow suggestively with her trademark wry smile.
​

​

Edward looked to Geoffrey and smiled when he said Ana had spoken with him. He was glad the three of them were such good friends and could all be there for each other. Right now, friends and honesty were desperately needed. He wondered if he should tell his friend what had happened with Ana, but he couldn't be sure himself. He told her he loved her and she let him hold her whilst she rested on his chest. He hoped that meant she felt the same about him, but he was a cautious man. She never said she loves him and they didn't share a kiss. He decided he couldn't tell Geoffrey much more than he already had about where he stood with Ana. Had his revelation changed how she felt at all? He wasn't sure.

Edward clung to Geoffrey's last words and a look of concern crossed his face. "I'm glad you're here, my friend. And I'm sorry you missed your dance lessons," he lightly commented. But he then turned more serious. "I wish you would tell me your troubles, Geoffrey. It's not my professional duty to listen to your problems and offer advice, but it's something I want to do for you, as your friend. Even when I'm worrying about my own misfortunes, I can still see when there's something bothering you. Will you please talk to me?" he asked. "Let me return all of the help you have given me."​

​

Andrew got the feeling the prince was disappointed with him for not getting the information yet. At first the boy in him felt the urge to talk back to the man and ask when he was expected to get any sleep if he was out fishing for information. But the loyal page knew it wasn't wise to question Frederick and he expected his lack of sleep was none of the royal's concern. So, he didn't speak up on the matter. "I will find Alyssa and see what I can find out," he confirmed. When there was mention of the tournament, Andrew smiled brightly. "That sounds wonderful. I'll be sure to spread the word!" When he was given a short deadline to find what Frederick needed to know, Andrew frowned and got up from his seat before walking to the door. "Of course, Sir," he agreed, before leaving the room. He hadn't expected a holiday when he was brought along to Argonia, but he certainly didn't expect the stress of sneaking around trying to get information. He was certain this wasn't what men had to do before they could become knights. But, it was his purpose to serve the prince without any arguments or protestations. So try to find out about Emile, he would...


Andrew walked quickly through the palace and outside to where the servants were setting up for the festival. He searched around before finally seeing Alyssa speaking with Olivia a short distance away. He realised he was now looking at the girl differently, taking in her appearance - her pretty face. Gwyn had a lot of answer for putting ideas into his head like this. He hoped he could still talk to the maid properly. When Alyssa approached him, he sent her a shy smile. "Shall we go for our walk now?" he asked, trying not to sound awkward. "I thought you could show me around the hedge maze first," he suggested. He really wanted to see it, but he also figured it would be more private for them to talk. When she agreed, they walked next to each other through the maze. "I hope you know your way around this. I once got lost in the one back in my kingdom. It was fun, but I was so worried I wouldn't be back in time to carry out my duties!" He grinned to himself as Alyssa laughed at his little story. He asked her a few more garden specific questions and general questions about what she liked to do, slowly building up to ask about Emile. As the reached a dead end with a bench, he invited Alyssa to sit down beside him for a moment. "Do you know much about Emile Hassard?" he asked. "I noticed he wasn't very friendly with Princess Analise last night, but he seemed happy about the wedding. Is he always that way?"

"I don't know..." Alyssa began, looking at Andrew's face to see if he appeared as casual as he sounded. His face didn't give anything away to her. "I haven't been around him much or heard what he has to say. I don't see why he would be rude to a member of royalty. Perhaps you misunderstood," she suggested. "Now, if you'd asked me about Lord Gladstone, I could tell you lots," she said, of Edward. "He talks to us and sometimes even helps us. Perhaps you could ask him about Emile?"

"No, it's fine. I'm not sure Lord Gladstone would talk to me. Besides, he's not as interesting as you," Andrew said, looking her in the eyes. He was being genuine but he was also trying to flatter her so she could tell him more. "I really like talking to you and learning about Argonia from you."

"Well..." she began, taking a deep breath. "I shouldn't spread rumours, but one of the other servants saw Emile not being very nice to Princess Bramble yesterday too. He grabbed her arm, but none of us know why. He doesn't seem to be very friendly with the princesses," she noted. "That's all I really know about him, though."

Before Andrew had chance to press for more information, Olivia stepped into view. She had only heard the last few words, so didn't know they were discussing Emile, but she could tell the page was fishing for information. She wouldn't want to get the poor boy into trouble by letting on that she was suspicious, but she didn't want him to be pestering Alyssa to find out things that could get her into trouble. "Now, what are you two kids doing sitting here all serious?" she asked, folding her arms. "Alyssa, you should show Andrew around the gardens before you have to return to your duties. And lighten up on the conversation a little. Talk about fun things," she said, grinning. As the two kids got up to continue walking, Olivia pulled Andrew to one side and spoke quietly to him. "Prince Frederick is welcome to speak with me. I might not know enough, but I know more than young Alyssa." She wasn't really sure what she was doing, but she knew Alyssa was too naive to be listening in on and spreading rumours about others, especially men more powerful.

Andrew and Alyssa left Olivia to continue walking around the gardens. Once the girl returned to her duties, Andrew walked off on his own and found a seat away from everyone. He'd not really managed to find anything out for Frederick and he didn't know how else he could without anyone finding out what he was doing. Whatever happened, he knew the prince was going to be disappointed in him. This was not a fun day. This was a rubbish day! Alyssa was really pretty, though. Andrew wished he'd been able to use the opportunity to learn more about her, not Emile Hassard.





"No, I cannot accept that, Geoffrey," Edward said, quickly shaking his head. "You have sworn to protect this kingdom and you devote your life to carrying out your duty. You are an honourable and committed man, which nobody can take away from you. But that does not mean you should be denied love and happiness. Any woman who would fall for you would know the risks that come with what you do, but that will not deter her should she love you." He sighed. "My uncle died fighting for Argonia and my aunt, nieces and nephews still mourn their loss. My aunt also cherishes the time she had with him and the children they had together. Any of us could die at any time in our life, so why should you deny yourself of love because, granted, you're more likely to be killed than I am?" he asked. "You're a strong man, but having someone to love and someone to survive for will make you even stronger." He patted his friend on the shoulder. "You must give yourself the chance to make someone happy."​

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Ana gave her sister a cheeky smile as she bit into a strawberry. "Who were you talking to just now? You sent your little boyfriend away so fast, I didn't get a chance to meet him." She teased. Then she had to think about it, whether or not she had seen him around before. To be quite honest, she had seen so many different guys around her sister she couldn't be sure which was which. She managed to shield her bowl of fruit from Bramble, keeping it close to her chest. "So. I've got something to tell you." She said in a singsong voice. It was still undecided if she was going to tell her about what was going on with Edward. She was possibly closer to her than her other sisters' if she was being honest with herself. The only secret she would keep for the time being was the one about their father. There was too much going at the moment for her to add another stressor.

Leo, still sitting at his desk signing papers, was thinking about the secret he had asked Edward not to tell. He was keeping many secrets away from people he loved and it wasn't to hurt them. The things he was doing could put many of them in harm's way and he would never be able to forgive himself if he had done so. He smiled at Edward as he came into his study and leave. Such a hard worker that one was, he thought to himself. Just when he thought he would be able to leave his study, Frederick was announced. He instructed his guards to let him in and offered him a seat, stamping official papers with his insignia. "And what may I do for you, Prince of Elfian?" He asked, not looking up from his papers. ​

Bramble snorted in a playful manner, still grinning as she replied in a sarcastic, flat voice. "Oh, hang, there goes my chance to show you my fifteen year old boyfriend." She shook her head as Ana kept her bowl of fruit close to her chest, her lips quirked to the side in an amused wry smile, she considered snatching a strawberry but thought better of it, if it came to rough housing, she didn't want to tear her stitches and bleed all over the floor, or accidenly shoe her bruised wrists, which was why she wore a pair of black lace gloves today.

Truthfully, she'd met Cartier in a tavern once after a night of thieving, he was quite young and it wasn't until she and Damon watched him stealthy pickpocket a mans satchel did she take an interest in him and find out he worked as a palace servant, after more investigating and figuring out his heartbreaking past that she'd proposed he worked for her, in return, she'd pay him with some of the stolen goods. As a servant, Cartier was very well funded.

Bramble's smirk turned into a devilish, wicked teasing grin as Ana stated in an enthusiastic voice she had to tell her something."Does this have something to do with your...last night sleeping location in someone's room?" Bramble teased, a mischievous glint in her bright blue eyes as her grin widened. Bramble told herself she didn't favor sisters, but if she'd did, it'd be Ana. Being closer in age, and able to keep each other's secrets, along with never failing to get into some trouble together, though it was generally Bramble to suggest going straight into battle.
​

Edward sighed at his friend's response. In his work, the king's advisor had made choices, written letters and agreed with decisions that had no doubt eventually led to deaths. However, he'd never directly killed another person or fought on a battleground, so he couldn't pretend to truly understand how the knight felt. They both had blood on their hands, only it was more literal for Geoffrey. It still didn't mean the knight was not entitled to love and be happy, but Edward decided not to push the subject further, for now. "I have no doubt there will be a lady and when she comes along, I will pester you on this subject again," he teased, with a playful smile.

The conversation then turned to the wedding and the Elfian Prince, causing Edward's smile and spirit to drop. He clasped his hand together behind his back as he directed his attention towards the festivities. "No, I haven't been able to find anything we can use yet. I'm struggling to come up with a way of stopping this wedding without leading to a war," he admitted. "I've written some letters to our allied kingdoms, which I have handed to the king to approve. If we are pushed into a war, I'd like to think we'd have the support of their armies against the Elfians." If it came to war, Edward knew Argonia would fall without the help of their allies. "And if the wedding does go ahead and Argonia is united with Elfian, at least we will have the continued alliance of more civilised leaders."

With mention of Frederick speaking with the nobles, Edward slowly nodded his head. The prince would be smart about this, so they would have to be too. "You are right, Geoffrey. I must find your brother, Lord Asher and speak with him today," he said, assuming the gentleman had remained at the castle since last night. He realised he'd been too absorbed in his own problems to mingle with the other nobles. That, and he had been dodging Geoffrey's teasing regarding Katherine.​

Ana gave Bramble a sneaky smile as she shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, you never know. Do you remember that one 30-year-old duke that got married to a girl 15 years his junior? That's literally half his age and no one said a word." She said matter of factly. But if he wasn't her little boyfriend, then who was he, she wondered. But she was going to get to that at a later time. Instead of bringing it up, she choked on a grape when her sister brought up her late night activity. So, she was seen exiting his study and wasn't as good as sneaking around as she had thought. Back to the hidden tunnels, it was.

After regaining her composure she gave her an innocent look. "Nothing happened, unfortunately." She told her coming clean. There was no reason to hide any of what happened. Well, from others yeah but not from her sisters'. She confided in them more than she confided in others and for good reason. "Just, ya know. Edward confessing how he is in looove with me. It was pretty romantic if I'm being honest." Replaying the episode in her head again, for about the hundredth time she couldn't help but smile. Before he told her all of this, she assumed he was a coward. The garden was where she made the assumption but with him proving her wrong, it changed everything. ​

Bramble's teasing grin widened as Ana choked on her fruit from surprise. She snickered at Ana's innocent look. She arched an eyebrow as Ana told her what had occurred. Bramble throughly loved to tease her sisters on romance, she however, wasn't interested on finding romance herself. Nobody was gonna tie her down. Bramble watched her sister her a faraway look in her eyes with a smile. And she knew this was different. Much more different then suitors.

Ana was in love.

Bramble smirk was full of mischief as she looped her arm through Ana's and they began to walk, it took everything in her not to wince from each step. Her eyes flicked over to the stables as she led them outside, taking in the beautiful clear weather before it landed on Edward and Geoffrey a distance away. Bramble stopped and looked at them, her smile wry and her tone teasing. "Mmm, sturdy and tall with such a soft face, but those eyes. Pow!" Bramble snickered at the sight of Edwards happy state. "Aye, the brown usually wins out you know, you'll have childlets with brown eyes." she teased Ana.

Just for fun, Bramble reached over with her other hand and snatched a strawberry while Ana was distracted with her teasing. Even Bramble was distracted, her mind distracted from the horrible pain at her side for the moment, thankfully she hadn't bled through the bandages yet.
​

As Bramble spoke on about what kind of life she and Edward could have, her mind wandered. There was no way possible she and Edward could even have this life, if permitted by her father, with Frederick getting in the way. Of course, when she became queen she could do whatever it was she wanted including have a secret lover but she would never do that to him. He was worth so much more to her than that. Then Geoffrey began to cross her mind. He was going through her mind a lot lately and she started wondering if she had feelings for him too. She hoped she didn't, for the sake of not complicating things a lot more and not ruining the relationship between the three of them. She was so lost in her mind, she hadn't noticed Bramble reaching into her bowl. "Hey! This is my breakfast, okay? Get your own moocher. And for your information, the Evrole family has very strong genes which means any kid I may have with whomever, will have my pretty eyes."

Leo could hear his daughters and others walk about and he decided he would go talk to them once he was finished with Frederick. He laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair as he listened to his proposal. He couldn't help but think this would indeed be a good show. "Ah, my departure last night was unfortunate. But, I'm no longer a young man and therefore cannot stay up as late as I used to." He gave a slight chuckle before taking a short time to respond to his proposal. "I was thinking the same thing. So be it. I'll spread the word that there will be a competition, it could be the highlight of the festivities." Standing up, he straightened himself up as he walked towards the door. "Now, if you didn't have anything more to discuss, I have to see about my daughters. I feel like I haven't seen them in forever." He joked. ​

While Ana was lost in her own mind, she was also lost in her own. Her mind wandered to Lucas, thinking about their walk in the gardens the night before and recalling their discussions, she couldn't remember for the life of her on why she decided to spill her guts to Lucas when she hardly knew him. There was something about him...something different. There was adventure in his eyes, mischief. All he had to do was reach out and grasp it.

And maybe grasp a book once in a while.

Bramble recalled him telling her that he was illiterate. She promised to give him lessons, though she didn't know why she did that either, she wasn't exactly the most patient person. An hour a day. But she'd run off on him so fast she didn't hear his answer.

Bramble snickered as Ana told her to get her own breakfast. She didn't eat breakfast, unless they had to sit down as a family once in a while. She wondered if they'd have to start doing that with Frederick. She blanched next to Ana, at the thought of it.

Bramble's feet scuffled on the ground and she suddenly wanted to talk about something other then romance and boys. She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at Ana, "Aye, but what were you going to tell me?" She asked, realizing Ana was probably going to tell her something else before she'd brought up Edward.
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Edward looked to Geoffrey with a faint smile as the knight spoke strategically. "Perhaps you could become an adviser yourself," he suggested. "Lord knows, I've been distracted over the last day and my mind is still cloudy. I'd have fallen into a river by now if you weren't hear to help me," he half-joked. Then, as his friend mentioned Katherine was now married and Lord Rockwell could be persuaded, Edward realised just how inattentive he had been yesterday evening. "Katherine is married?!" he asked, grinning. He then light-heartedly pushed his friend's shoulder. "You bloody trickster! You had me going, you know? But that's wonderful news. I'm so glad she found someone who can love her and make her happy." He then turned more serious and nodded. "I will follow your advice and speak with your siblings and Lord Rockwell at the best opportunities," he agreed.

"You're not dying anytime son, Geoffrey. And there'll be no wars, if we can help it," he assured him. He had no idea how they were going to stop this wedding and avoid a war, but Edward always had some faith in the World, even during his own darkest days. He then noticed Ana and Bramble looking at them, which caused him to send a warm smile and a wave in their direction. "Speaking of protecting this family... Have you seen or heard anything concerning of Bramble? I barely saw her yesterday and she didn't take the wedding announcement too well, even by her own fiery standards. I've noticed she does seem to be spending more time around one of the guards. Lucas, I believe? Do you know much about him?"​