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[uncourteous]

why raeliana ended up at the crown prince's palace — now on sale...

not me showing my investment from like day 1. once i finish work, i'll have an image up here.

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[uncourteous]

[ the way she keenly analyzes each and every single situation and tempers her reaction is not unlike what he's seen in certain duke's daughter in many ways. perhaps, she may have just been as much as a mad dog and society had carried on utterly unaware of this possibility. does that make her mask all the more stabilized, or has there been no actual opportunity in which she was able to express this side of herself— unbridled and free of judgment. funnily enough, he guesses the bullet she shot would have been the only one who could testify to the truth. but, just as dead men told no tales, the lead is all but lost in fragments within a cold corpse.

was his thoughts getting much too graphic? he can barely pause to mull it over as her statement fills the space between them. it gets a small huff. ]

Oh? Are you discounting the third celebration of the month. Rather dismissive of you. [ has there actually been that many celebrations. probably not to this scale, but one gala blurs into another, and in reality, he's sure they both realize that all these details were inconsequential to the actual heart of the matter. ]

My lady, it looks like you still have yet to learn... quietly accepting is normally the polite thing to do. [ ... ] Then are you planning to sleep at the palace? [ the illusion of choice... ] No? [ lol.

on the bright side with their steady pace, the sounds of the banquet hall become all the more audible. the dulcet tone of mild conversation and the occasional murmur that could sound curiously sound like a mix between laughter and a sound someone may make whilst attempting to spare some sympathy. maybe this is why callisto seems to gradually slow in step, as if to say he wasn't about to round the next corner or the next without her response. ]

[displeases]

[ ... didn't he say he wanted to talk about love earlier?

something that raeliana has scathingly filed away as inconsequential. because the gravity with which callisto's attitude had changed in that split-second before she was made to change into something less bloody was odd but quickly dismissed: just another drop of dread in a vast ocean of unease that had already existed from the very beginning.

but their idle conversation brings it right back to the forefront. the crown prince's favor seems hard-won and worse, it's fickle. saying the wrong thing at the right time could change his opinion of her at the drop of a hat, his temporary affection like the expensive garment glittering on her body — easily given and stripped away.

here, a princeling's lesson in nobility. look at his magnanimity, the polished and exalted warhero, extending lessons in etiquette to the young lady of a rising noble house's influence.

...

bullshit. he's just having fun trying to get a rise out of her. ]

Quiet acceptance, is it...

[ what are they even talking about... right within earshot of a banquet and the guards stationed at the doors. too far to really discern the topic, but close enough to see the matched pair, the rubies on raeliana's torso twinkling in the same light as callisto's eyes on her. ]

My, if that's really the nature of your invitation, then I don't think politeness is what you really want from me.

[ no. not in private, when he was gauging her as a real and possible threat. not in the dark, with assassins in their midst and the belief that they could've been for either of them. someone more polite would've been less likely to draw a gun.

the illusion of choice. into the banquet and into the light, and it'd paint raeliana in the same red that's still stark and bloodied on callisto's uniform. the dress has likely been the talk of noble ladies long after the late empress had passed away, and everything the empress consort would wear in the years after would only pale in comparison. callisto had made a whimsical if not strategic choice, usurping a rising ducal house's vote against the second prince's faction in one fell swoop. or maybe he's just fond of making enemies? it's hard to say. noah's not going to be happy.

... no matter what. because the second alternative, in front of these guards with eyes that see and mouths that talk: ]

If so, I'm surprised you'd think I'd sleep at all.

[ and she'll call his bluff. an emperor must always be flawless. ]

[uncourteous]

[ what was better than biding one's time?

akin to an executioner who sharpens the blade of the axe they drop, or those who affectionately craft a noose for one's neck... who doesn't revel in the moment in which they've all but showcased what they're truly capable of. even monsters had pride.

as far as he knew, their talk on love was an inevitability rather than an idea that could or couldn't come to fruition. a conversation that was set to happen regardless of the quiet trepidation it may have sparked. if he had any say in it, he would have fervently argued that the apprehension it brought forth may have been more delectable than the conversation itself; tantalizing in all the right ways, especially when he can see weigh her down, no different than the lush fabric and jewels on her dress.

the more she rotated, flipped, and upended his words in her head, the more satisfaction he garnered on his end.

unfortunately, it looks like she had no intentions of giving him that, however. she remains impervious to his attempts at chipping away at her exterior, attempting to see her in all her unrestrained glory. maybe he envies the assassin she put a bullet in. ]

If it isn't politeness I desire from you, what do you think it is that I truly want? As you can see, I am not especially lacking in anything. [ he gestures to her and her full display of what all the wealth in the empire could purchase so readily. the crushed gemstones against the fabric giving it the illusion of sparkling even in the dimmest of lighting. the glittering pales to that of her steadfast bravery. bravery, which is only amplified as she seems to throw out her on bait.

...

her chuckles darkly, letting the doors of the banquet draw open as the servants bow their head, as if welcoming them back into the familiar light. making no secret of his words, he raises his voice, enough for it to cut through some of the nearby whispers. ] Then can I take that as permission that you have no desire to sleep tonight? [ how was that for a scandal. how much more could the duke despise him and all his ploys. while it may be his own reputation that is being tarnished alongside hers (and truly, to whose benefit?), for once, he doesn't seem to mind. the emperor must be flawless, even amongst rumors he's all but created himself.

perhaps, raeliana was the perfect piece to complete this celebration, after all. ]

[displeases]

[ ... what a misstep.

to what end, raeliana can only consider as her valiant attempt at composure cracks at the edges of her smile and eyes. it's almost noble. compared to callisto's years of well-bred mannerisms and training, raeli's only had a fraction of it in a crash course upon waking up in another world. that she only falters now would almost be commendable. a hairline crack in smooth marble that only callisto can see by way of proximity.

he's just a little too close. she's had to fix her expression more than once tonight to have had some practice, but there's just something about the crown prince deciding to act uncharacteristically that's bringing the hairs at the back of her neck to stand on end. her smile's nervous; he's close enough to know that. her fingers tighten a little on his arm, but she isn't hanging close enough for the gesture to seem... that... intimate...(?) ] O-oh, how could I deny Your Highness anything? [ ... wait, no, wording, raeliana. ] Rather than permission, I'd say that it's simply a humble invitation.

To deny or accept as Your Majesty sees fit.

[ her sweet airs, the light grace with which she speaks... all still shaky with this newfound revelation that callisto is decidedly less worried about this certain aspect that he can control about his reputation. a violent warhero and a flirt? perhaps he's figured there are worse things for an emperor-to-be.

or so it goes. now within the grand dome of the dining room, the ballroom, the guests and their merrymaking, there's nowhere else to hide. callisto's still regal even when draped in dried blood, the gold of his head and ornaments catching in the gleams of chandelier light. he's a glittering spectacle with his gold-spun hair and nothing else could possibly distract from it... save for the fact that raeliana's pure white dress is a pale, stark contrast, crushed gemstones twinkling in winks of red as her train flutters across the ballroom floor.

it could just be coincidence. callisto had neglected to change because it wasn't a priority. he hadn't purposefully kept the blood on him just to highlight the change of raeliana's clothing, or to ensure that every eye is on this infamous dress with rubies that match the color of callisto's eyes.

of course not. ]

Is it a dance that you want? [ it's a question that might sound a little rude when she's ducking her head somewhat. noah's no longer at the table. she only needs to look outward to see another pair of eyes on her and it takes a bit of nervy wandering before her gaze finally lands somewhere chin-level instead of meeting callisto's eyes outright. ] Or a bigger spectacle?