Deception

"Oh, do stop teasing him. He's integral to my plans-- our plans, really. He's travelled throughout the other kingdoms, has extensive knowledge on them. He worked for that bitch in Pruina. Do you see now how important he is, darling? He's my special weapon, really," the King grinned, his dark eyes glancing back over at the nervous boy in amusement. He also knew better than to admit outright what his plans were, having thus far failed to involve Neotoma in them - but now seemed as good a time as any to do so. He was quick to trust him, clearly far too quick, but he felt like he could; he felt like Neotoma was someone he was connected to, despite the short time he had known him. Unfortunately, that meant that he felt he could inform him of the plans he had and, ultimately, that everything he had said in front of the other royals, and his behaviour itself, was a complete front. None of it was real, but he felt like telling Neotoma wouldn't be such a bad idea; he had to know eventually.

He didn't exactly realise that Neotoma wasn't on his side, but a spy sent to expose such secrets on his Queen's behalf.

"...You may as well know that I have no intentions on actually befriending the other kingdoms, Neotoma. I've hidden a lot from you and I don't want to do that, I want to trust you. We can trust him, Imogen. I put my trust in him and that ought to be good enough for everyone else," he nodded firmly,hesitating for another second before gesturing Neotoma closer with a gentle smile.

"I'm nothing like my father. He wanted isolation. I don't. But I don't want to cooperate either. I want the other kingdoms for myself. It's rather ambitious of me but I know I can achieve it, hm? Especially with you at my side. You have knowledge that can benefit me in crushing those pathetic kingdoms. It really shouldn't be too hard with your assistance, Neo. The other royals won't see it coming, they're so oblivious, it's hilarious. So that's the plan, anyway. You'll help, right? Obviously you will, it'll be fun and-- well, you're part of this kingdom now. I want you to succeed along with us."
 
Taking in Lysander in confusion, he pursed his lips. He had started to believe that the demons hadn't actually had any ill intentions and that Lysander had genuinely been planning on reuniting everyone . He was expecting to return to Pruina with praise about the honest efforts put forward by the young king - to hear that it was all just a ruse made his stomach churn and his heart pound faster.

He had lied, sure - but it was in fear of losing his job or even his life. He was a nobody that had taken comfort in the background, that being said it would mean him suddenly disappearing would have little to no effect on anyone else. As he watched Imogen affectionately run her nails along Lysander's side, he had to keep himself from passing out.

"I'll help, yes." He eventually replied once realizing more time had passed-than he thought, only to cause his face to turn beetroot. "I hadn't - I hadn't expected to have such an important role, I apologize. Yes, I'll do my best."
 
"Really, all you need to do is feed me information and be at my side if I need you, which I probably will. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I think you're integral to this mission, Neotoma. I don't want that to scare you or pressurise you at all, but... well, don't underestimate your importance. Obviously you'll be rewarded for it after all of this is over, don't worry about that. Even if this all ends in failure, I want to reward you for taking the risk. You could easily run back to Pruina if you wanted; I'm grateful you're not doing that. Besides, that Queen treated you like shit, Neo. It'l be fun to ruin her, hm? It'll serve her right for underestimating you. I at least see how important you are," gushed Lysander from the bed, his brow arched as he took in the reaction. The nervousness was obvious, but he didn't find it too suspicious.

Neotoma wasn't a demon and he didn't understand the centuries of undelivered success and unrecognised ambition the people had endured. They wanted to have someone in charge who was confident and ambitious enough to actually make that leap and achieve something - Lysander evidently thought he was that person. He didn't expect Neotoma to understand the centuries of frustration and how eager everyone in the kingdom was to make up for it which he why the nervousness didn't concern him too much.

"It's a lot to take in, huh? Relax. I'm not an idiot, I'm not going to rush the plans too much. I want to do this right. I can't afford to rush into it and be humiliated. Or killed, even. Look, I told you because I want to be open with you; honesty's important amongst friends and that's how I regard you now. We're friends, Neotoma. I... see you as a part of my inner circle, even. Just-- god, please don't stress out about this. I know what I'm doing."
 
"Oh, I - thank you," the Harenaen blurted in response as his face only grew redder. He never had an official friend, just unspoken acquaintances and bar mates. To have someone say that he was their friend was a bit shocking, though he slowly offered a smile. He decided not to dote in it too much at that moment. Later though, most likely to Themus, he would happily gush about the official title.

"I believe you. You're much more competent with this sort of thing than I am," he admitted with a quiet chuckle. "I'm honored about everything you've given me, really. Yes, the Queen was... she was incredibly rude and belittling to me during our interactions. To have you as my ... friend, it's like whiplash. I promise that I will help as much as I can. It's nice to feel appreciated."

"Yes, yes, this is all lovely and all but could I please be alone?" Pleaded Imogen as she watched the scene unfold. You are all so loud, it's both sickening and making me get a migraine," she groaned in misery as she held her head with a grimace on her lips. "I appreciate this, Themus. I just need this all to be quiet."
 
"...Yes, well, I suppose we had better leave if that's what you need, Imogen," began Themus in return, forcing himself to smile as he gathered the empty bottles from the side of the bed to later refill with the medicinal remedies. Just because his sister was sick didn't mean she didn't annoy him a little sometimes, and if Lysander wasn't in the room, he would have sent her back some cutting, teasing remark; some brotherly comment that both emphasised his annoyance and also came off as jokey and not too serious. That, however, would still have been too much for Lysander to accept - the man didn't want anything said to his girlfriend that might upset her, however jokey and playful it was.

"I'd love to talk more to you about my plans and how you can help me with the, but now is perhaps not the best time for such discussions-- you can eat dinner with me tonight, we'll discuss it more then. I'll see you later, Neotoma." Lysander smiled, doing his best to lower his otherwise booming voice, guilt hitting him the moment Imogen spoke up about the noise in the room. However, he only allowed that guilt to show on his face when he was left alone with the woman, turning to face her with a concerned grimace.

"Sorry-- I'm sorry. I don't realise how loud I am," he apologised quickly, shifting himself back up closer to her again. "...You gave me a real scare today, you know. I-- thought you'd-- I worried you might have-- I don't want to say it. You just scared me, is all. You shouldn't try to get out of bed without someone to help you, it... it'll just end badly."
 
"You can say it, Lysander. You thought I was going to die." She firmly replied, her face flat of expression. It was something that had loomed over their relationship for years now and it wasn't like she could get better, she could only stop from getting worse. As the door closed, she moved to entangle her fingers with his, her lips finally parting into a frown.

"I just want to be independent again, Lysander. You don't understand how humiliating it is to be up here, all alone without you as you go and conquer the map. I want to be there and support you and instead I'm just a hindrance," she continued, her voice shaky. "I'm sorry, Lysander."
 
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"You're far from a hindrance to me, don't say that. That's not fair. You're sick; people get sick sometimes, right? Just like they get better. You'll get better one day, I know you will. Neotoma's pretty great at the medicine stuff, I'm sure he'll find a way to help you. And your brother's always experimenting, I'm certain they'll both manage to find a way to improve your condition, Imogen. I refuse to believe that you can't be helped," he determined confidently, despite the very fact that he often feared that wouldn't be the case. Demons healed remarkably quickly from diseases, and any injuries they gained healed in minutes. The fact Imogen's illness had persisted and only worsened over the years was hardly a good sign. Any chance of her recovering from it was slim, though he couldn't face telling her that, even if he knew she thought that too.

"Let's not talk about it. I'd rather vent about the meeting. It went terribly. I'm rather glad I had a reason to leave; I can't deal with those people for much longer, Imogen. I hate them all. They patronise me and their ageist bullshit is aggravating. I want nothing more than to snap their necks, which would be so fucking easy to do. I just had to sit there and take all their crap-- it would have helped to have you there. I'm not great at doing this stuff without you," he mumbled as he adjusted the pillows behind him and moved to lay back down against them, kicking his shoes off to try and gt as comfortable as he could. It had been a while since he had last been able to fully relax and just vent to Imogen which only made him feel guilty again. He had been busy planning and heading off to meetings, which was a valid excuse, but it didn't feel like a good enough reason for him to have neglected spending time with his girlfriend. She was the only person he was willing to be loyal to, if she ever asked him to be. She was easily one of the most important people in his life, so the realisation he had failed to be present for so long made his stomach churn in disgust at himself.

"You should come next time. It'll be at Palus; where all those horrid Orcs live. It's not too far, Imogen. We could stock up on potions and bring blankets, it really won't be too stressful. Besides, I'm going to marry you one day; they ought to meet the person that'll be Queen, it's stupid for them not to."
 
"You want me to come with you? Oh, gosh, no," she replied with a laugh, her cheeks growing pink in contrast to her gray skin as she bashfully looked away. Despite her intimidating gaze she often gave to servants, she coukd melt into a giggling mess with Lysander, something that only he and Themus could do. In the peak of her health, she was a commanding force, one that was easily fitting for a good queen. She could most likely muster some energy to keep the facade in front of the council and the idea of being a proper Queen was fantastic.

"I wouldn't want my appearance to make them think you're weak. These people sound horrible and I don't want to give them any reason to use it against you. To be honest, if they're the reason that Neotoma Guy is so skittish, I can only imagine how cruel they all are," she murmured, a nail pressing to her lip in contemplation as she laid beside the other. Just the notion of laying down made her body ache and her head spin but she tried her best to hide it if only to have some sort of average moment. "I can't wait to see them all shake in their boots when you take everything over. They can be ageist but they just can't accept someone who isn't some old hag."
 
"Do you think I'd let them talk bad about you? If they so much as say a word about you, I'll make sure they realise how big a mistake that is. I just think it'll be good for you, to be involved-- as you should be, you know? Give it a thought, at least. The next meeting's not until next week, so you have some time to prepare if you did want to come. If not, Themus can join me instead. Or Neotoma. You're the only people I trust to be at my side," he nodded calmly, turning onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, resting his arms at his sides to stop himself nervously nibbling at his fingernails, which was an unfortunate habit he had when he was anxious. Being around Imogen tended to make him feel that way, having to listen to her laboured breathing and constantly fear that she would just stop altogether in his presence, which was terrifying, naturally.

"They are utterly dreadful people, it's why I want you to come. You can't expect me to endure their company alone. If I have to endure it, I want to subject you to it too. It's only fair that you experience the horror of their company too," he snorted, pushing himself to lay on his side to face her properly. "I mean, that fairy is a complete bore; all sweet and good, you know? And that's boring to me. The lamia's alright. She's flirty with me, which is kinda gross because she's not my type, but I humour her. They all like me, besides the Pruina woman. I can't win her around and that's... troubling. It's why you should come. Perhaps she'll trust me if I have you at my side, gushing about how wonderful I am."
 
She squeezed her eyes at the pain she felt, particularly in her side, but opened them the moment she felt the King adjust himself. Pausing to respond, she did let a smile grow at the gossip. The only way she ever heard of gossip outside of her room was when her handmaid would report, but most days it was silent up until recently.

"How can you even put up with this, Lysander? I get annoyed when my handmaid looks at me strange, I can only imagine how frustrating this all is. It's worth it, right?" Imogen conformed with raised brows under her black hair. "I don't envy you, is what I'm trying to say."
 
"Oh, of course it's worth it. Honestly, I'm not even doing it solely for the power at this point. It'll be more enjoyable to me to see those idiots be ripped of the thrones they take for granted, I suppose. Serves them right for underestimating us. You should hear the way they talk about us, Imogen-- demons, I mean. They whisper but I get the message clearly enough. They think we're scum, so sure, it's all worth it in the end. I'll deal with the bullshit because I know the rewards are great, hm? For us, especially," he quickly grinned, determined to emphasise the fact that she was a major part of his plans. He knew she felt left out from them out ever since her sickness really worsened, so it was almost a job for him at this point to constantly emphasise how important she was to him and how much he valued her.

"It's better than isolationism, right? I can't go another year isolating Ignis and letting the other kingdoms look down at us; it's not right. Until then, I just have to be on best behaviour and act like a good, cooperative royal. It's really not too difficult," he promised, rolling his eyes to himself at the genuine disgust he had at the role he had to adopt but the ultimate benefits of it were too great to turn down. "...Are you feeling better? I... would love you to come and have dinner in the dining room tonight, Imogen. It's been weeks since you last did that with me. If not, I'll make sure Themus eats here with you, so you at least have company."
 
"If... you're willing to give me time to get down, I'd love to join you," she admitted, though her smile was wary as she began to sit up, only to hiss at the pain in her head. She was determined to get down the stairs to join for a proper dinner. With a shaky hand, she reached for the black and bejeweled cane leaning against the intricate bedframe. Once stabilizing herself, she offered another smile to Lysander.

"As I said, just... please move slowly," she begged, wrapping a robe around her right as she slipped into a pair of disregarded slippers. She had only ever really left bed to take a bath, which was often done by her handmaid so the slippers were rarely used outside of the small ventures down the stairs, but more often than not she'd be urged back to bed by servants. Warily dyeing Lysander in hopes he would both follow and support her, Imogen began to shuffle very slowly. Worst case scenario, she would stumble to her feet and could focus as far as to break something. It would heal, sure, but far slower than any normal demon.

"This better be good food or I'll be mad," she teasingly murmured, her voice becoming a bit labored already once out of the bedroom towards the stairs.
 
"Do you think I'd eat anything that wasn't perfect? I'm sure we're having that soup you like tonight, so that'll be nice for you," he murmured absently, automatically chattering and continuing on the conversation just to avoid the silence-- at least, a silence that would have otherwise only been broken by his girlfriend's pained winces and hisses. He was happy to ramble on about anything he could to avoid that.

As he carefully followed at her side, ready to catch her if she stumbled or prepared to offer support if she needed it, his instinct was to just scoop her up and carry her, to save her from the pain and from potential embarrassment if she did take a fall. He saw nothing wrong in her asking for help, and he much preferred to assist her than to see her hurt so badly, but he knew how independent she was. He knew better than to take that away from her when she clearly wanted to exercise a little of it, however upset it made him to watch her struggle just to walk a few feet across the room.

"...You know I won't pursue that boy if you don't want me to. Neotoma, I mean. He's cute and obviously my type, I just-- you do know that I'l commit myself entirely to you if you asked me to, Imogen. Just say the word and I'll commit, easily," he began as he strode forward to hold the door open for her, smiling quietly all the while. "I don't care if you can't-- you know, handle more than a few kisses right now. Sex isn't that important to me. If you want me to be with only you, I'd do that in a heartbeat."
 
"It's fine, Lysander. I know I can't really give you what you want, but I also know that you love me. Sex is just sex, right?" She replied dismissively, though there was a twinge of guilt. She wanted to make her boyfriend as happy as he made her, and the fact that she just wasn't physically capable of sex - something she knew Lysander liked quite a bit - only made her feel more useless. Gripping onto the side of the stairs right, she did pause and offer to give a kiss for emphasis.

"What matters is that my name is what comes out of your mouth, with whoever you're with." Imogen firmly declared with a teasing smirk on her lips. "If this Neotoma kid can find a way to make me better, then maybe I'll change my mind on the whole open relationship thing. I mean, not to brag but you and I both know that I know your body better than you do," She drawled only to end in a hard cough.

"I don't mind what you do as long as you only love me, I think we both can agree on that," she added, taking a brief seat on a step. "Why did your grandfather have to make this place with so many stairs? It's ridiculous. He was an old man, right? This is ridiculous."
 
"Same goes for you, obviously. I've seen the way you look at your handmaid, Imogen, I'm not entirely naive. You can cuddle with her and kiss her for all I care; just don't go loving anyone but me and I'm happy. It works both ways, doesn't it?" He countered with a faint smile to himself, hesitating at the top of the stairs before forcing back the urge to help her and, instead, taking a seat next to her. Dinner could wait hours for all he cared - he wasn't prepared to rush Imogen or help her without her asking him to, just to make it to dinner at the allotted time.

"It is ridiculous, I suppose. I get winded running up here, and I like to think I'm in peak physical condition. It's not something I can remedy, though. The stairs are here; I can't get rid of them, however much I'd like to for your benefit. You know I'll carry you anywhere you needed to go in the castle, but i also know how much you'd hate that. It's why I give up asking you at this point. You're so stubborn, wanting to do this by yourself," he tutted quietly, the faux, playful annoyance masking his upset rather well. He wasn't necessarily afraid of appearing vulnerable in front of her; he just felt she had bigger problems to take care of than comforting him if he did get teary and emotional.

"Take your time, it's really not that big of a deal. If we get to dinner late, that's fine. They're not going to chastise me for it, Imogen. I can kinda do what I want around here; perks of being King and all that."
 
"... in this one case, I'll let you carry me. I know this will take long and I don't want that new Harenaen or my brother for that matter to be impatient," she eventually declared after a long pause of contemplation. As she spoke, she snatched up one of the books that were carefully lining the stairs specially placed for her. Reading the spine, she weakly waved over Lysander.

"Come on, then. I know you love to flex your muscles whenever you can. Is that what you do to catch my brother's eye?" She teased, her voice growing hoarse. She rarely spoke nowadays other than to her handmaid and her mouth already felt dry but she smiled through it.

"I know you and my brother have rubbed shoulders now and again, huh? As for me, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted but we've only ever snuggled, and that was usually under the circumstances of me being cold. She's cute, don't you agree? She's got curves in all the right places. I have very vain types, it seems. Now chop chop, help me down the stairs - be careful."
 
Not having anticipated the request, it took everything he had not to appear too pleased by it - though a wide grin marked its way onto his features regardless of the attempt to subdue it. It didn't take him long to easily pull her up into his arms, only just managing to conceal how horrified he was by how light and small she felt in them. He could visibly see how much weight she had lost and, thus, how weak she had grown, but it was only when he picked her up and held her in his arms like this that he could feel for himself the detrimental effects the illness was having on her.

It didn't stop him from wanting to please her, of course. However sick she got, he always made sure to tell her that she was easily the most beautiful woman he had met - and that wasn't a lie to make her feel better.

"She's cute, yeah. Has nothing on you, obviously. She's got the body, sure, but you're a 10/10 sort of woman, Imogen. Nobody comes close," he winked, offering another quick kiss, which he forced himself not to deepen. It was difficult not to get carried away when all he wanted to do was be close to her, but her health had to come first - there was no point in worsening her condition just for some heated make-out session. It was selfish, he knew that, so he made sure at all times to reserve himself to a brief kiss whenever she was up for it.

"You know about Themus. I... didn't think you did," he continued, his voice and cocky demeanour dropping a little as he averted his eyes elsewhere, biting his lip in awkward thought. "...I shouldn't have, it's dumb of me. It's just... sex, really. There aren't any feelings, other than the fact he's my best friend. You aren't mad at me, are you? Because I don't have any brothers or sisters you could be with to get back at me, so..."
 
Her nails dug into the back of Lysander's neck in pain from being lifted, a few of her joints going as far as making soft 'pops'. She brought no attention to it, of course, and instead moved to admire the muscles her boyfriend sported proudly. She didn't want to admit how weak and thin she had gotten, having been proud of her body when she was healthy. Despite being told how beautiful she was, nothing would really change her mind on herself until she somehow got better. It was nice to hear the compliments, however fake and forced they felt.

"Does it bother me? A little, yes. I don't really have the energy to be as mad as I should, though." She admitted with her own smile. "You know what we had established is still valid and... I guess my brother is just as available as anyone else. I guess it's just a matter of me not understanding why? I don't know - you aren't still with him, are you?" She confirmed, he brows raised under her bangs as she clung tightly to the other.
 
"I don't know why; it just happened and then it was convenient for me to keep it up. If I didn't have the energy to attend a party and find someone I liked, Themus was there to fall back on. He'd say the same thing, by the way. I'm not disrespecting him; he's not in love with me, Imogen. It was just convenient. I'm sure he'd be indifferent when I tell him we can't... continue what we had going. Hell, I'm sure he found it inconvenient. You know what he's like - his work comes first. I'm sure I was a distraction," he mumbled beneath his breath frowning to himself at the faint feeling that he had only proved to upset Imogen, however casually she seemed to be talking about it. Even if he irritated her mildly, that was still far too much in his eyes - he only wanted to make her happy, so even the mildest of irritations made him grimace in disgust at himself.

"...It's over, relax. I don't... realise boundaries sometimes. I won't go near him in a romantic, sexual capacity. Promise. Neotoma is the only one I'm actively pursuing, out of curiosity really. After him, assuming he even likes me, I'll... devote myself to you, yeah? I don't mind, Imogen," he pointed out, though dropped the topic the moment he arrived at the dining table - it wasn't a conversation he wanted Neotoma to hear, after all, given the boy's propensity for growing awkward and bashful. When he told him he liked him, he wanted to do that in private to save the Harenaen any potential embarrassment.

"...I didn't know you were joining us, Imogen. You... you are feeling well enough, aren't you?" Themus murmured from his seat, his eyes locking on his sister in surprise at her appearance at the table. "I don't want you pushing yourself too hard; you need rest"
 
"I'm fine, Themus. Eating dinner with my brother and my boyfriend isn't going to kill me," she dismissed quickly as she took her time taking a seat beside Lysander. It had been longer than she'd like and the whole thing felt foreign to her as she neatly adjusted the silverware that was quickly placed in front of her. She wanted to keep an air of regality in front of Neotoma, even if it meant the possibility of damage later.

"So what is there to eat? My handmaid insisted that I eat more, if my stomach can handle it. I think my stomach can handle whatever the kitchen is willing to serve me," she insisted, though her stomach churned at just the idea. Almost everything that she ate couldn't stay unless it was incredibly soft and, say, meat wasn't particularly soft.

"Yes, well, I don't mean to be rude but what exactly was she diagnosed with?" Blurred Neotoma after a long pause of trying to internally translate what she said. "I would like to help but I can't go into this all blind, right?"
 
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