𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
uncourteous) wrote2022-08-12 02:23 pm
uncourteous) wrote2022-08-12 02:23 pm
💗 - 2%
not me showing my investment from like day 1. once i finish work, i'll have an image up here.
not me showing my investment from like day 1. once i finish work, i'll have an image up here.
no subject
...
but, it remains jammed, the pressure of his fingertips on it entirely for show. the safety fortunately locked at the time of her "attack" (or so he will label it in his mind). ] My, that's quite the ferocious look you wear. [ finally, finally...
the veil she once donned seems to have slipped off her countenance completely, and he seems to relish in delight for it. if it's not already perceptible by the amused expression plastered on his face, it may even visible in the way his shoulders seem to slacken ever so slightly. it appears she wasn't only a great marksman, but was also quite accomplished in reading between the lines. at least enough to be aware of the invisible threads linked to his bloodlust.
considering they've both dropped their masks, hers of being the proper lady and fiancée the the duke wynknight (jk, she's unfortunately still his fiancée, even if he had placed his hands upon her like), and his of being the hellion of the royal family. okay, maybe neither has been wholly done away with, but it's clear there's a shift in their dynamic; invisible to the eye, but palpable enough to change the atmosphere between them.
... and apparently, the physical space as well. not that they had left much of it between him frisking her down, and even now as one of his hands seem to have naturally found itself on the small of her back, as if attempting to impede the reach of her arms. ]
Is it an accusation when you have all but helped me pull the trigger? In my defense, you suddenly leapt up on me. [ ... and even now, they're in this rather questionable position, her hands clasping onto his wrist. ] What would your dearest duke have to say about this?
[ all roads lead back to noah... our next au. ]
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but at least the safety's back on. it probably shouldn't make a lick of difference. the prince could probably do more with a sword, anyway, and probably enjoys the tactile sensation of an edge sinking in somewhere soft. thankfully she can take a moment to stop thinking about it somehow. with all of callisto's poor-fitting civility peeled back, looking, for once, more in his element without the looming threat of his own early demise waiting in the wings.
still, it's no real chance to drop her guard despite whatever's changed between them. her heartbeat's still ratcheting wild with the echo of the safety catching from the pistol trigger, and callisto's got his hand splayed wide on the small of her back for whatever reason. she's also holding his hand?
it isn't a good position to be in for two people avoiding a scandal. but she doesn't relinquish her grip, her mouth pursing in thought as she considers if what he says is truly a threat. ]
About what? Will you tell him that I "leapt" at His Highness, the honorable Crown Prince?
[ would noah try to square up with callisto? maybe in this au in another thread.
meanwhile raeli highly doubts it. ]
I don't know. You likely heard of the rumor that he had to pay a hefty sum because of my previous engagement.
Since it's come to this, do you think he'd try to kill me or you?
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the former duchess-to-be who has clearly lost her mind. whether that's the angle she is aiming for, or not, he seems to find it ( rofan ml voice ) interesting. engrossing, really. so he keeps their present position, his fingers move, as if tapping her back in some form of impatience. is this an injunction, or a whim? unfortunately, the lines for both tend to blur, but he'd argue this has less to do with authority and more to do with dissecting her intentions.
his eyes fall on her hand as he speaks: ] Would you call this something else?
[ his tone is a subtly more casual, as if he had dropped some pretenses along the way. ]
You do realize you are speaking to one of the wealthiest men in the empire... [ look at his golden hair, raeliana. this is the sign of being filthy rich per penny (citation needed). ] I could offer higher for you, if that's what you asking for. I don't necessarily like the idea of placing monetary value on human life, but it looks like that isn't the case for you.
[ clearly toying with her, but he figures if she brought her prior engagement into this. it wasn't without purpose. was there more to it than they knew on the surface? it's not that he hasn't heard the rumors himself, but that's the thing about rumors, isn't it? they barely hinge on half-truths, and he'd much rather believe in the gutsy woman before him. ]
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[ and that certainly isn't a full sentence... but it spills out of her without a drop of polish or good manners when it seems like callisto is well on his way to making some kind of hilarious misassumption.
although he isn't exactly wrong. approaching noah had been a business venture for all intents and purposes, weighing her life on a scale where the other side was balanced with gold coin and a man's whimsical favor. and that's regardless of what she knows. callisto doesn't like the idea? implying that raeliana does and doesn't find the fact kind of tiresome already: that everything in this world seems to come at some sort of cost. ]
... that is, I wouldn't dare dream to impose upon your good graces any further than I have already. [ she says, sweeter, with her hands around his wrist and directedly pointing the gun even farther to the side and away from her general direction. ] If it's all the same to you, I actually don't mind this narrative.
Something like... that the Crown Prince didn't like what he found under my skirt?
[ even if he seems very much in favor of not letting go of the gun.
still. forgive. forget. they survived some assassins and surely that's the last they'll see of those...? ]
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he feels her moving the gun slightly away from herself, and he doesn't fight against her touch. after all, what crown prince doesn't properly repay the bravery of those in their empire? ] ... If you haven't heard, I treat my own people rather well, so think nothing of it. [ said with all the intentions in the world to remain purposefully dismissive. ] Unless, you're scared of some other invisible repercussions?
Then I would be envious that there's something you fear that much. [ something beyond him, that is. it's less a threat and more of a observation. he says this as his eyes fall back to waist, which he has no intention of releasing. ]
I'd argue it's quite the opposite. Maybe he was a little too fond of what he's discovered.
[ he doubts it's the last they'll see of said assassins, and if the lady were much like a omen of death herself, fanning the flames of murderous intent— then who was he to not enter the fray himself? ] Yes, we'll go with that story. I have a feeling the lady and I will have to become quite well-acquainted.
[ he's decided for her. you're welcome, raeliana... ]
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raeliana, however, is not built for the pretense of romance and only has the misfortune of being a good shot (to the heart) to blame. callisto, meanwhile, avails himself of the opportunity that her focus elsewhere gives him. his hand's poised somewhere along the slant of her waist and steady, and yet she's still looking at the gun in his hand and the fact that its safety was disengaged sometime in all of their talking.
it isn't that his hand isn't warm — broad and solid and reassuring; and still, a killer's hand — but this is a dance that she's accustomed to by now.
literally. noah's hand had wandered in much the same way while the waltz was hammered into her clumsy form during her daily lessons. here, she doesn't think of him. she's caught in another man's arms and still thinks very clinically of it. the lack of revelry or debauchery in callisto's small section in the story somewhat helps: the emperor must always be flawless. no ruin, besides her death, was possible to her here.
...
even if he does seem tickled by the breath of scandal that'll follow them outside of this room. because he keeps talking and her eyes dart up at his face, accusatory and a little wild to be looking like that without filter, without nearly enough arm strength to hold him back should he push the pistol to where an old blood splatter's marked a laced target dead center on her chest. ]
Then... am I yours? Your Majesty.
[ my own people — a comment that he means in earnest, but what of the old nobility? besides the point. callisto's attention glitters not with gold, but with an edge of steel: it may be less of a threat, but it still is. ]
If we mean to be more than acquainted, then you should know: I am very afraid of you. [ he wouldn't know it, with that tone. ] I'm not sure what I might have said otherwise, that you'd think to be envious... But the both of us say a lot of things. This must be how misunderstandings are formed.
So you should make it very clear to me what it is you mean.
[ as her hands fall from his wrist, one at a time. ]
As I would truly hate to misunderstand you.
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except, there was a large chance that this was not a change anyone would revel in aside from callisto. a route best left unventured in the present. had she done anything remotely close to profess her false feelings for him, he'd surely have used it as further justification for the hand on her back, and the proximity of their bodies. it's funny how no one realizes how loud one's breath is, or how warm the human flesh was. much like one forgets how vivid the color red runs below their skin.
except, he's not exactly consumed with any intrusive thoughts of unbridled violence in the present. unless, it's the shot the lady herself had taken prior to this whole debacle. perhaps, killing the assassin right before his very eyes was not so dissimilar to a confession, actually. ]
Is there a single person in this empire who isn't mine? [ unless you run into technicalities.
but, it's obvious his words carry a certain dryness. it was clear they both had their own fair share of issues. while callisto didn't place a whole lot of stock in rumors, he did believe in the information that occasionally came across his desk in the form of concise reports; ones slipped onto his desk in utmost secrecy, often mixed into the daily expense reports and other such political dribble. perhaps, that's why despite how suspicious he may have initially been, he also finds himself... a bit invested. not in a wholly sympathetic sort of way, per se. but, maybe an emotion that mimicked some loose shred of it existed.
however, he secondary statement is enough for him to forgo this topic... ] How could I not know when you tremble like a wet dog.
[ in regards to her fear. said matter-of-factly, not exactly meant to be an insult, as much as a colorful description of how he saw her. (he doesn't actually).
when her wrists come back down, he also draws his hand lower. the safety clicks back on, as he casts the gun to side, letting fall to ground with a thud. the sound of its solid barrel sliding against the marbled floors. ] I don't believe we are misunderstanding one another, however? At least, I thought I was very clear in wanting to know you better. [ just in case she takes this as a moment to slip away, he does press her body flush against his. ]
A shared secret and a debt repaid. What else holds two people closer?
[ as partners, that is. but had he made this more convoluted? perhaps, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit remorseful. ]
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well, there are worse things than being possessed. he could curse her noble upbringing with the same breath he seems to speak of the glory of the empire he represents, a strange juxtaposition between a shining figurehead executioner and a man that seems invested enough in the people. it blunts his sharp edges and relaxes her somewhat — even if the metallic clatter of the gun skipping across the floor is startling enough to keep her on alert.
something like that, anyway. she keeps her gaze steady and that stops her shivering at once. nothing he says is a threat anymore, but a dog would take careful note of their differences and defer where necessary. ]
There is nothing you wouldn't be privy to, Your Majesty, should you ask anything of me.
.../2
that besides, he's warm, and his face is suddenly too close, and raeliana's pulse comes a little quicker as she does try to yank her entire body away, a short jerky step that slams her back against the door because, oh right, that's still there, isn't it— ]
... wait. Debt?
[ incredulous, as she dares her palms against his chest, ignoring the singe of powder burns along her fingers and the fact that ash could leave a mark too expensive for house wynknight to launder. ]
What do you mean "repaid"?
1/2
per usual, the lady oscillated between speaking frankly, and with words any royal would be beside themselves to hear. which imperial wouldn't see the appeal of equal parts flattery and an invisible touch of an unspoken promise of honesty. except, callisto didn't often believed in the latter. he discovered the more forthcoming one attempted to be the surface, the more they kept tightly against their own metaphorical chest. perhaps, so deeply wedged in there that even iron would be unable to pry it open.
except, in those cases, he felt their intentions were made so clear on their features. greed was difficult to mask, as was murderous intent. especially for someone akin to callisto who was basically raised on the sensation. the lady's innermost wants... seemed to elude him, and yet he didn't exactly dislike it. a common theme through the night. a complication he didn't quite expect, much like how her words once more devolve into a more visceral reaction.
their closeness, whether literal or figurative, seems fleeting at best. ]
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the push against his chest is barely anything, but when he looks at her lithe, thin limbs, it's not exactly a surprise. while he is pushed an almost comical margin, he releases small chuckle. ] Is that not where this conversation was going, Temporary Duchess-to-be? You were basically begging me to repay your debt. [ what is any webtoon storyline without an ml that steamrolls and operates on very bold, very audacious assumptions? ]
Why else would you entrust your everything to me? [ her body, her secrets.
even if in an entirely different context. he eyes her fingertips briefly, and in light of their almost sooty appearance, he does dig out a handkerchief. pulling away from her ever so slightly, if just to permit him to draw it out from his pockets and sliding it over between her palms and his chest. ]
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shut the hell up, omniscient narrative, his hand was sliding platonically up her thigh like a dozen tags ago. ]
In what way am I begging—?
[ elegance and refinement make the core backbone of their respective standings, speech carefully civilized so as to convince the world of their nobility, their kindness, sweetness and cleverness.
or so it goes.
no one would know it from the nervous babble of a girl who's quite possibly halfway to insane if she's considering asking the future leader of the empire if he's lost his bloody mind. but as it's probably not politically expedient to commit treason in such an anticlimactic manner, she kills that thought on her tongue, and zips her lips into a thinning line as her fingers dig ashen into the handkerchief that callisto smoothly, s(n)ootily slips between her hand and his decorated torso.
hiccoughing, then. ]
... in any case. It's a debt that my husband-to-be will surely... pay... for the sake of... love...
[ could she sound any more genuine...? while she's pressed flush against the supposedly sagacious crown prince and making a face like she's trying not to sneeze. the debt exists only because she's saving her own hide and hair from her murderous ex-fiancé, but callisto doesn't need to know that. ]
If Your Highness insists on the repayment of any kind of debt tonight, then...
Perhaps I'll take the change of clothes that you had offered.
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readernarrator sees all 👁👁much like how it's quite clear to callisto that despite the lady's best efforts, the more she speaks... the more she seems to dig her proverbial grave ever deeper. if it was once a shallow unmarked grave, it is now deep enough to lay an entire casket and a few large personal items, at that. as if the wedge the final decorative headstone in— ]
Love?
[ whatever remarks he may have been ready to deploy in light of her beliefs seems to fall to the waste side from that word alone. there's a lot of thoughts that seem to bubble beneath the surface, as well as just as many questions. but, beyond that: ] Very well, let us get you changed, and we will finish our conversation from there. [ he steps back, permitting a gap of space behind her now for him to open the door by a small sliver.
his chest is still against her, and this is probably a compromising position that the is definitely walking in on. but, it's an important piece in light of his next words, said almost painfully slow. as if it were as much of a threat as anything else he's said this night. ] I would very much like to hear about this "love" you speak of. [ ah, yes...
before he leaves he does walk over to the room, picking up the gun, before placing it against one of the guards still nearby the door. as if asking them to take care of it. whether she likes it or not, he remains posted outside the door, waiting for the maid to eventually resurface with raeliana changed into something ... horrifically matching to his own bloodied attire. ]
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so the story goes, all of this in easy procession, at the merciless whimsy of the empire's crown princeling.
without ammo, without a word in edgewise, raeliana is ushered into some other inner room by the quivering maid that she's somehow lost all sympathy for the moment she helps strip her out of her blood flecked dress without preamble. it must have been expensive — from a designer with a waitlist stretching out for close to a year — but even its decorative frills and filigree pale to the exorbitant decoration of whatever outfit that callisto somehow had waiting in the wings, gallingly familiar, and glittering with the same gilded facets that made up his current uniform.
it fits her, surprisingly, with little alteration. her old dress, speckled sadly and wrinkled, gets carried out by the maid to never be seen again.
that's fine, this is okay, never mind the alarm bells still ringing loudly in her damn skull as she steps out of the room to see callisto patiently waiting for her, caked in blood and just a little darker with the shadows casting about his face and hair. ]
... your generosity knows no bounds, Your Majesty.
[ a curtsy for show, because there are guards now and they're very much not alone anymore, and it would do them both a whole lot of good to remember that fact than for him to drag her into yet another room for "privacy" while the empire's rubies are glinting from the breast pocket of the dress that she is somehow now wearing. ]
I will have this dress laundered and sent back to the palace tomorrow evening...
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considering he doesn't hear any noises of protest, or the sound of some foreign force being utilized (i.e. another gun she may have pilfered from wherever else in the palace walls, or perhaps in self-protection)— he takes it as a positive sign. for such a fearless lady, one who could stand before him and drop her façade in a type of bold-faced stance against him, she was surprisingly docile at times; almost as if she were carefully weighing her options, and delicately deciding to which battles she would feign surrendering. while it made her sharp witted and clever, it also made her... horrifically suspicious to most.
even more knowing she won the heart of a duke that was rather renown for his...
well, no matter. it seems she's already accepted her fate in that dress.
when she reemerges, his eyes seem to trail over her. as he thought, the empire's dresses leave a lot to imagination and yet very little at all, considering he still remembers his touch on her. hence, he had no real doubts she would fit it just fine. ] As you can see, I have no need for a dress. [ it's now that he finally dismisses the rest of the servants. he draws ever closer to her for every step they take in the opposite direction.
his voice is soft, as if produced just for the two of them. ] If you really feel burdened by it, you can consider it my own attempt at making sure this dress didn't fall into the hands of someone undeserving. [ throwing shade at the empress was as easy as breathing, just as it is in having someone complicit to his complaints. is it his intention to tie her to them as an accomplice to these treasonous conversations, or something else entirely? ]
Also, [ mentioned like an after thought. ] accept the invitation I will send to the Duke's residence as soon as tonight.
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which is fine. which means they match. which means that callisto drops a susurrated murmur into her ear and raeliana feels it coil down from that point to some place around her throat like a snake. there are only a few members of the royal household who'd own such a fine garment and it isn't exactly promising that raeliana's avoiding the crown prince's swordpoint just to fall on the blade of the empress instead.
if she's right, callisto's doing her a disservice worse than death. if she's wrong... well, it's something she'll have to account for later. because she falls into step at the crown prince's side, and in her matching dress, it likely looks worse than when he'd swept her from the dinner floor with her arm tucked against his. ]
Your Highness must certainly like to party.
[ not an immediate refusal, though that's just as far from an agreement. ]
Is there cause to celebrate something else that can't be done tonight?
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especially in contrast to what sounded curiosly like a refusal in his eyes (no, it definitely was one for all intents and purposes). anything that wasn't flat out agreement and "i'm flattered, your highness" was much the same, after all. ]
You could say because of someone's blunder, [ said as if there was no possible way that he contributed to her being here. ] I could hardly enjoy it to its fullest extent. It's quite a shame, really. Perhaps, that is simply the price of being a proper host. [ the word proper being appropriately stressed here by the way he holds his arm back for her, carefully touching her hand and attempting to place it against his forearm. ]
Do you not think a celebration should be more intimate?
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but here, in a long hallway lined with paintings of golden royalty and armored guards at hidden corners, she can't exactly react outward the same way she can in a private room. raeli schools her expression into the scant twitch at the corner of her mouth, and titters with the kind of gentle laughter that the noblewomen of present time usually use while chatting over tea, possibly while delivering a soft quip of humor that is in no way, shape or form intent to ruin someone's life.
of course not. callisto's intentions are pure and so must be hers. no need to overthink what should be taken at face value. ]
I suppose that depends on what we're celebrating.
[ the melodious cadence of the crown prince's voice carries towards the lit gallery where the crowd's conversation makes a constant din; the rust of dried blood in the air is muddled by the sudden waft of roasted meats and caramelized desserts from what must be another full course of a feast.
whose birthday was it again? or was it a holiday that brought her to the palace? if raeliana was killed, would her family then cease to celebrate?
if the crown prince was killed, would it simply cease to exist? ]
If not for the holiday... then I think it's enough that we're alive and well, Your Highness. [ even if... that's still tenuous. when her fingers land hesitantly back on callisto's arm and she's looking more like a gilded accessory in the dress that he's forced upon her. ] And I wouldn't want to impose yet another function on your behalf...
[ translation: please don't send a private invitation to the palace while i'm staying at my future husband's home. ]
If we celebrate appropriately tonight, that should... give you the intimacy you're looking for. No?
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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?