Playing with Fire

"I really think I ought not to," Carina argued gently, but sighed in her nervous reluctance, "It just makes me anxious getting someone else involved, that's all. I know I can trust you," a lie, but she smiled nonetheless, "But Natalia...I don't know her. She hasn't shown me the kindness you have. I wouldn't want her reporting to your parents and getting us both in trouble." She fiddled with the end of her dress sleeve as if considering it as they walked before eventually nodding: "Okay, I suppose you're right. But I doubt my presence is really needed, she seems likes you..."

Perhaps she ought to be more careful with the Prince. She had been under the impression that he had no allies or family to count on for support in this castle. But perhaps she would need to be a little more careful with this adviser being around. Having a woman her own age look her up and down with the same disgust that Natalia did in her own court would undoubtedly lead to Carina toying with the unfortunate lady before having her suffer the consequences. Yet here she couldn't do anything, and it irked her. For some reason, it was harder to smile and be polite for someone of her own age than it was for the old haggard of a Queen that was Valentina and the crude and useless bastard of a King that was Lucien.

Taking in a deep breath through her nose and expelling it from her mouth, she gave Sven a nervous smile. "How long has she been your adviser?" She asked as she allowed him to take the lead. As much as it pained her, she had to show that she was making an effort with this whole Natalia thing. Faking an interest, showing that she wanted to get to know the woman more and their dynamic further. "She must be very good at her job, to be in this position at such a young age." She continued.

She found herself crudely wondering just what skills the woman was good at to have earned that position. Then she stopped herself, releasing another soft breath in an attempt to release the disgust and contempt that threatened to consume her. But with her nervous smile and the anxious habit of playing with the end of her sleeve or the bracelet, it would merely look like she was hesitant about asking Natalia for help after this morning's confrontation.

"How-how much longer until we find her or reach her?"
 
"Two years or so, I think? My parents fundamentally disagree with the need for an adviser; they don't like to rely on others for advice, but that is such a... narcissistic outlook, I think. I don't claim to know everything and I like to discuss matters with someone removed from the royal family, who has other opinions and... Natalia has never failed to offer them to me. Which I appreciate a great deal. It's-- an example of me managing to defend myself; I've kept her on at my side regardless of my parents' dislike of her role," he hummed proudly, his own hands beginning to fiddle with the ends of his shirt as if the mere mention of his parents was enough to induce nervousness into him, both in his posture and behaviour. He made an unsubtle effort to ignore the feigned nervousness, biting hard on his own lip to make his effort all the more clearer.

He had no qualms in acting and appearing so pathetic right now, somewhat enjoying the act of pretending to be so weak when he knew the truth of his true nature was entirely antithetical to it.

"She should be in here-- ah yes, here she is. Natalia? Can we have a word?" The young Prince awkwardly called out upon coming to a stop at a dimly-lit room at the end of one of the corridors he had led Carina down. The room wasn't small but the walls of books, ranging from the carpeted floor to the very top of the ceiling, made it appear more tight than it actually was. Sat at an old oak desk, with neat stacks of papers resting across its surface, was Natalia, the woman having returned to her work after the confrontation with Sven.

She lifted her head at his voice, shaking her head in disbelief at the pathetic masquerade he seemed intent on continuing to display. It wasn't anything new and she knew that - she had heard rumours of the weak, pushover Prince before she began to work for him, witnessing for herself as Sven would remain reserved and spineless in the presence of his parents. It was a facade she understood the need for, to fool those around him until he was ready to spring into action and take what he felt he was owed, but he had greatly enhanced the irritating traits for Carina's benefit.

And while she admired how easily Sven was able to portray those traits as if they were truly who he was, it wasn't easy to accept his plans when she wouldn't get to benefit from them with him. He was happy about the arranged marriage; not disgusted or horrified by the idea as Natalia felt he ought to be if he loved her as much as he had claimed. All lies, of course, but she was too in love to notice that she had been manipulated as much as everyone else who came into contact with Sven had been.

"...What is it you want now, my Prince? And you too, Carina?" She asked calmly, refusing to acknowledge the other's royal title in a deliberate effort to irk her - as Carina's misuse of her name had earlier succeeded in. "I've got a lot of work to be getting on with; replies to letters and the like--"

"Ah ye, of course, we don't wish to-- to disturb you, we just thought-- well, Carina thought that she might-- see her brother? I'd like her to, ah... see him too, I-- do think it'd be worth the risk to... help her."

"You want to see your brother? Are you quite mad, Carina? Do you want your head to depart from your shoulders? Because that is what will happen should you get caught going against King Lucien in this manner. It's treasonous."
 
Carina was also irked at having Natalia involved because she wasn't sure exactly what game to play with the adviser. She doubted tears would work on her, and being firm and icy definitely wouldn't work either. She had also noticed the irritation that formed on Natalia's face when the Prince walked in, his meek anxiousness on full display.

Unaware to the underlying tension and problems within their own... personal relationship, Carina wouldn't know that her presence and her role in this arranged marriage would give Natalia even more of a reason to hate her. Hell, if Carina knew, she would have offered for them both to continue their little secret relationship. She wasn't about to come between that, and it may even keep the little Prince busy once they were married. A King didn't have to explain why he didn't share a bed with his Queen, so if he choose to spend the nights with his miserable mistress, then so be it. It was no skin off her nose.

"The King didn't... exactly say I couldn't visit my brother. He had very limited rules on that, in fact," Carina answered carefully, averting her gaze and taking a more submissive approach. Perhaps the woman wanted power, if Carina grovelled and acted as weak as everyone in this hot mess of a kingdom thought she was, perhaps she would relish that and enjoy having the power. A power Carina was reluctantly to provided, but needed to control nonetheless.

She kept herself stood behind Sven, chewing at her lower lip as if worrying over what had just been said. "The... King won't kill me, not for simply visiting my brother. I still have to marry his Sven and provide an heir. Until I do that, I'm still going to be of use to him."

Wrapping her arms around herself, she kept her eyes on the documents the woman was working on for a moment before looking up to begin her grovelling, "Please, Natalia, I just want to make sure he's okay. I-I know you don't think much of me or my kingdom but I just want to make sure he's alright. The King doesn't even need to know." She paused, finally raising her eyes before adding another trembling: "Please."

Hopefully the cherry on top.
 
"Oh, you've learnt my name. I'm honoured. Well done, you. See, it isn't too difficult is it?" Responded Natalia, a smile spreading on her lips as patronising as the words themselves. Her dislike of anyone from Eira meant that, automatically, she refused to give Carina any sort of chance, deciding to hate and belittle the woman the moment she met her. Of course, that hatred was also based upon the fact that she was to marry Sven, Natalia feeling more than justified in her blossoming hatred with that in mind.

It was why she failed to hide the less than subtle glares at Carina, nor disguise the condescension from her tone. What did she care if Carina felt the strength of her hatred? There was little she could do about it, giving the adviser free rein to make Carina the receiver of such belittlement.

And while she wasn't overt in her disrespect, ensuring her tone was polite and there was a smile on her face throughout the interaction, there was little doubting the growing tense atmosphere in the room, so thick a knife could through it. Yet, that was precisely what Sven had hoped for when bringing the two women together in the same room - he expected those fireworks and, as he lingered on the periphery of the interaction, allowed himself to smirk in amusement at it all.

He had to create some amusement for himself to perk himself back up after reluctantly missing out on the celebrations (though voluntarily, he couldn't celebrate among such imbeciles), and this was a sure-fire way to bring a grin to his face. He rearranged that expression uneasily quickly, a more weak smile now fixed on his face as he stepped back into the conversation upon seeing Natalia return to her papers.

He was prevented from trying to convince her when she raised a hand to cut him off, returning her quill to the ink pot with a faint sigh.

"I suppose I can bring you to him, yes," she eventually responded. She wasn't necessarily convinced by the tears, but the pleading and begging did speak to that part of her that desired some power. Having the little ice queen beg for her assistance was a boost to her ego and, unaware she was being played, allowed Natalia to smirk in satisfaction.

"Right, we will have to be quick. I know that they're keeping him, effectively, as a prisoner down in the dungeon - he hasn't got the privilege of being promised to our wonderful Prince Sven, after all."
 
It took a lot of will power to not bite back at such a condescending remark, Carina physically biting on her tongue to keep herself from spitting out an icy retort. It wasn't worth it just for her cover, her game, to be out for all to see. She would make sure the patronising adviser joined in with the suffering she had planned for the rest of the Ignisi Kingdom. Perhaps she would even let her go first, test out a few different methods and types or torture to see what hurt the most on these fire-lovers.

For now, Carina locked all those thoughts away in a box, her hands moving to behind her back to clasp tightly there as the silence lengthened and the tension thickened. A coldness seemed to seem into her blood and then her bones, moving deeper and closer to her core. She was all too aware of her power thrumming within her, straining at the leash that came in the form of a bracelet. All because of how this woman was looking at her, revelling in the power she believed she had over her. Carina longed for a split second to show the woman what real power looked and felt like.

Instead, her pitiful expression lit up into one of gratitude and she held her hands up against her chest. "Thank you. Thank you so much." Carina breathed, shaking her head. Power. The woman desired power above all else. Perhaps she dreamt at night about the power she would have as the King's adviser when that time came. She was certainly enjoying the power she seemed to believe she had over Carina, although the ice Queen took pleasure in the fact that the imbecile of a woman had instead provided her with the opportunity to make her next play in her game.

"In-in the dungeons?" Carina repeated, eyes widening as she ignored the jibe about being engaged to Sven. "Is he all alone down there? Who else do you keep down there? He's not-- he's not down there with murderers or thieves or-or..." She trailed off, looking between the Prince and his advisor. A real concern, yes, since she wasn't exactly pleased with her brother being forced to stay in the company of heathens. But it was a question she needed to get answered so she knew how much she could say or how quietly she would need to speak.

She would also need to know if they would be coming in with her, or if they would be waiting outside the dungeons. But Carina couldn't ask such a question just yet, not so soon after her first. It had to be done slowly, carefully.
 
"All those who are sent to the dungeons await their punishment from the King himself. In order to create space for the prisoners from Eira, including your brother, the previous criminals were killed before the war commenced. Lowered into the pits of lava, I think - it's a rather agonising death, but it's relatively quickly, and I imagine the King was so confident of a victory against Eira that he needed the previous batch of prisoners gone as promptly as possible. So your brother won't be among murderers; just other Eirian unfortunates," remarked the adviser casually, as if such a barbaric method of execution wasn't something to be reasonably appalled by.

No fair trials or independent juries were present in the kingdom of Ignis, with all criminals receiving their judgement from the King himself - and quite often, most crimes were deemed dastardly or abhorrent enough to receive a penalty of death.

And, if the lava pits were evidence of anything, it was that the manners in which many of the prisoner died were far from humane.

Sven purposely remained silent as his adviser casually stacked her papers while rattling on about the process that the King had undertaken before going to war. He had been present as the prisoners were rounded up, some for petty crimes that would have been perfectly punishable by a small fine, and observed as they all instead received the death penalty - purely to create space in the dungeons. He had watch on at the lava pits as the group of men -and a single woman- were lowered to their agonising death in the depths of the bubbling lava, not once grimacing in discomfort at such a horrific sight.

Rather, it was one of the only areas of his father's rule as King that he wholeheartedly agreed with and supported. People needed to fear their rulers by realising that they ruled with an iron fist and were more than capable of making the most heinous of decisions without hesitation. And though Sven was more than confident that he could put his father's attempt of that to shame when he took the throne, he was at least somewhat proud of the methods he undertook.

"...My father is... I... I mean, he's very... W-Well... I'm sure his cruelty doesn't surprise you," he instead murmured as if the unparalleled inhumanity didn't sit well with him. With a forced smile, he trailed after Natalia who appeared almost helpful in her hurry - though rather than caring about the consequences for Carina, she was more focused on rushing to spare herself -and Sven- from getting caught.

"Your brother is-- I'm sure he's fine," he continued in an attempt to be as reassuring as he could, taking a second to glance over at Carina to gauge her current state of emotions. "...He... seems like you; strong-willed and determined-- from what I briefly saw of him, anyway."
 
Nausea rolled in Carina's stomach at the description in which the previous Ignis prisoners had been killed for their crimes, and for the sake of her game and the act she was putting on, she willingly allowed that emotion to show. Her face paled and her lips parted in shock at the inhumane form of their death penalty. She could only imagine that this was with no trial or justification for the punishment they had been handed. Just simply murdered for the sake of an ego which would never be satisfied.

In Eira, they had always provided fair and just trials for those that had committed a crime. Of course those that had committed the most heinous of crimes, Carina had no patience for - wanting to see their deaths. Treason, murder, rape... and any others that come into the same category - Carina would happily take their lives herself. But it was never as horrendous and torturous as those lava pits. Agonising indeed.

She barely registered the news that her brother would be with other Eirians, and a small ball of comfort bloomed in her chest that he would be with their people. It also seemed almost too perfect what she planned. To have a collection of her people from her kingdom in one dark dungeon with their young prince. Whom she was about to visit and give a set of whispered instructions too. She doubted that anyone would ever enter the dungeons fully except to provide limited food and water. Anything could happen when you put a group of wronged and suppressed people in one space who still had hope.

Licking her suddenly dried lips, Carina focused back on the horror she was openly displaying. Her eyebrows knitted together as she looked to Sven as if only hearing his words. "My-my brother?" She repeated, applauding herself on the well timed crack in her voice. "Oh, yes... my brother. He... uh..." She trailed off, as if trying to gather her thoughts.

Carina hurried her pace to catch up with him and Natalia, chewing at her lower lip. "He does his best to keep me out of trouble-- or he used to. I always have-had his support, no matter what." She answered quietly, playing up to the sad little orphan narrative she was sure they all had painted of her.
 
"I am sorry about... all of this. I wish I knew what my father's intention is, holding some of your people captive like this, but... but I... I'm here if you need me. I recognise that I'm an enemy to you, that you might... distrust me, but hopefully me helping you to see your brother might... build a bridge between us. I'm not the enemy, Carina; I'm not my father," responded the young Ignisian as he came to an abrupt stop at Natalia's request, watching as the adviser turned the corner and hurried down a set of stone steps that led to the dungeons. Guards were inevitably stationed in the room before the cells and while Sven could easily dismiss them with the privilege his royal status granted him, news would undoubtedly filter to his parents that he had done such a thing.

And when he intended for them not to find out, to not disturb the plans he had put in place that he was gradually reaping the rewards from, the last thing he needed was to stroll casually down to the dungeons and ruin everything. Hence Natalia's inclusion in the plan. He was investing a great deal of trust in her to form a plan to relieve the guard of their duties momentarily - this was an opportunity for her to blurt out what Sven was planning to help Carina to achieve; to see the ice queen she detested so much be punished for her disobedience.

As likely as that was, he had surprising faith in Natalia to do the opposite; to instead do as was required of her by helping, not plotting against them. Why? Because he knew that Natalia was aware what he would do to her if she chose to go against him in that manner. As well as he had executed his feigning of love for her, he had declined to hold back from letting moments of his true personality shine through - and from that alone, Natalia ought to realise the grave mistake she would be making if she dared to betray him.

From the sight of the burly guards trudging their way up the steep steps and disappearing down the far end of the corridor, Natalia had wisely opted to remain loyal in doing what was required of her. The red-haired woman eventually reappeared up the steps herself, a look of smug satisfaction on her face in the hope that she would receive some benefits for her quick-thinking from Sven later on.

"You have ten minutes before they come back from their break, Carina. Ten minutes, not a second more."

"--Ten minutes is more than I thought you'd have; make the most of them," urged Sven with a well-executed eager smile, peering down into the darkness of the dungeons. "I... suppose you'd like to go down alone, to have your privacy with him? I... I understand if that's the case; I can keep watch here for you."
 
Carina almost felt guilty for using the little prince after his speech about not being his father and hoping that this moment could build bridges.

Almost.

Then she remembered the feast. The slaughter. The destruction. The ice melting and blood running. Any thought of guilt or potentially saving the Prince who had become so useful without even realising it vanished. He may not have raised the sword that beheaded her father, and she doubted he had any say in the army commands. But he was the worst of all - he was submissive, passive, and a coward in her eyes. His refusal to partake in conflict angered her the most. His head down and mouth shout approach frustrated her. Things could be done so much quicker if he wasn't so anxious so... pathetic.

But, as she knew, he was useful while she gathered her plans together. And that was the only reason why she tolerated him.

Beginning to answer, she sharply shut her mouth at the sound of footsteps and her head turned to peer cautiously around the corner. Relief flooded her at the sight of the guards' disappearing backs and she forced a smile of appreciation onto her lips as Natalia climbed the stairs soon after. Despite her longing to slap the smug look off her face.

"Thank you so much," Carina breathed as they approached the stairs leading down. She looked between them both, grateful smile still in place, "I'm in your debt, both of you." Those words were distasteful, thick and heavy on her tongue. In their debt like hell. Them helping her may just convince her to be a little more lenient on whatever creative punishment she could think of for when this was all over. "Ten minutes." Carina then nodded.

Her gaze flickered to Sven, smile softening perfectly and she reached out to gently touch his arm, "Thank you... but yes, I-I'm not sure he'd appreciate seeing us together," she nodded, releasing his arm after a light squeeze, "Just... knock when my time is almost up, would that be okay?"

Giving both of them a final, nervous smile, Carina headed down the stairs and into the dungeons.


It was dark, and the smell was repugnant. Only a few lanterns were lit to provide a dimness that would strain the eyes if one looked too hard for who they were trying to find. Fury swelled in her to see her people in such squalor, her soft smiles and hesitant, polite facade dropping the moment she slipped through the door. Her eyes hardened and her jaw set as she felt eyes beginning to fall on her, whispers starting up.

"Carina?" Emmett's voice called from a few feet in front of her, and she followed it, uncaring to the hands that reached out to brush her shoulders and her arms or her waist and her ribs. As if her people needed a physical touch to believe she was really there. Her gaze made out chains on the wall, and she could only imagine what it was like when there were individuals. No barred cells, just chains to shackle their prisoners to the wall.

A new kind of relief flooded her at the sight of her brother, but instead of collapsing into an embrace, she kept herself strong standing and held him firmly. The only sign of emotion being her squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Reluctantly she pulled away, holding him at an arms length as she checked him over. A bruise under his eye, a split lip... and gods knew what other bruises that may litter his body under his filthy clothes.

"I don't have long, I managed to convince them to let me visit you. All of you." She kept her voice lowered, hushed in case there was anyone standing, listening by the door.

Emmett seemed to have the same idea, eyes flickering to the entrance before motioning with his head for her to follow him deeper into the room. The people with him moved with them and Carina couldn't help the emotion that bubbled within her at the fact her people were still loyal. Emmett must have explained, told them the situation. Hopefully they would remain loyal to her and continue to serve her with what she was about to propose. Despite the mass murder of the previous Ignis prisoners.

She gently placed a hand to her brother's cheek, exhaling softly and shook her head. "I have a plan... we can't just sit here and allow the Ignisi bastards get away with this. We need to fight back, take back what is ours and more. We will have their King's head for what he has done." She murmured for the sake of secrecy, but her voice was firm, words harsh. Carina turned to look at the crowd that was gathered in small semi-circle around them. "I know I'm asking a lot. I'm asking you to risk your lives but if we revolt, if we fight back... they won't be expecting it. They think us weak and incapable of providing a fight worthy of their concern. But let's prove them wrong and take what we deserve."

A hand gently rested on her shoulder and she looked back to Emmett who provided a small smile, nodding his head once. "You don't need to ask, we are with you."

Carina reached out her own hand, hand clasping his elbow with a determined smile of her own. "I'll find out more, when may be the best time to strike, how to get you out in the first place... I'm working on the Prince. He's a small, submissive thing who just needs attention and affection. I'll win him over, get information from him..."

She moved her hand from Emmett's elbow to lightly grip the back of his neck, "Just stay alive. Don't do anything that will jeopardise our plans. " She released him after momentarily bringing their foreheads together. She looked back to her people, seeing hope glinting in their eyes. She noted there were no children, and her stomach twisted. At least she would feel no guilt if they were caught in the crossfire. "I'll get word to you about any new arrangements."

Not about to elaborate on how, Carina looked to the door again, exhaling heavily. "I will see you all soon. Stay strong." She told them, giving her brother's hand a final squeeze before moving through the crowd again. This time she met their hands with her own, giving light squeezes to those who sought contact. As she reached the door, she looked back, tears glistening and she was grateful that it was dark enough for them to potentially not see. Sven and Natalia could, for all she cared, it would add to the facade.

With a final nod, she left the dungeon, taking in a deep breath of the less foul air.
 
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Every fibre of Sven's being desired nothing more than to follow Carina down into the depths of the dungeon. He could hazard guesses about the content of her discussions with her brother, already determining that plans for revolution were desirous, but that didn't prevent the urge he had to hear them whisper in the dark with his own ears. He could correctly identify what they would be talking about, sure - but that wasn't quite as enjoyable as hearing them plot and plan together, those only broken by hushed whispers of hope and promises. That he could garner pleasure from, deeming such hopefulness and possible proclamations of revolt against their Ignisian counterparts little more than the pathetic beliefs of an inferior people.

And yet, despite his best efforts straining to listen in from the top of the stone staircase down into the darkness, he couldn't even hear the faintest of whispers. He had no doubt that Carina was stirring up belief amongst her captured people that they could win their freedom and get their revenge, but he wanted to hear that. It would have made quashing her efforts and breaking her spirit all the more enjoyable, but alas, he sighed angrily and gave up the fruitless effort.

He could wander farther down into the dungeons himself to listen, but that risked Carina witnessing his presence and realising he wasn't to be trusted. He wasn't, of course, but he didn't want her knowing that. Not yet, at least - which reluctantly forced him to remain waiting for her to make her return.

The minutes didn't go by in silence on his end, however. His attention naturally diverted to Natalia and, despite having much to thank her for (from helping him with access to the dungeon to keeping quiet about his deceptive masquerade), he was instead fixated primarily upon her earlier disobedience. It had worked in his favour, ultimately making him appear incapable of even defending himself against his own members of staff, but he hadn't asked for her help and thus the disrespect was unwanted - and deserved punishment.

Upon Carina's disappearance down into the dungeons, Sven's body language, once again, changed in her absence. Natalia, perhaps, knew Sven better than anyone else, if only for the fact she was aware of the facade he presented as his true nature when nobody else was - and so she was best placed to know the possible danger she was in upon seeing him calmly smile across at her. It was a smile devoid of any joy or comfort; it was eerie, cold and unsettling the trifecta of qualities Sven, at his core, possessed.

"I don't appreciate the disrespect, Natalia. Nor do I appreciate the smugness," he drawled slowly, his voice -often shaky and a pitch higher- now at its naturally deeper, silkier tone. "And do stop teasing my future wife, I think that pleasure ought to be mine and mine alone~"

"...I can tell that girl that you're lying to her, you know; don't push me. It'll ruin your plans, won't it; if she knows you aren't a-a pathetic, snivelling pushover? So-- So maybe don't underestimate me, Sven; I'm helping you. I want to help you," she emphasised as confidently as she could manage. She might not be fully aware of Sven's nature, oblivious to how expertly crafted his masquerade was, but she was aware that he wasn't the submissive, nervous wreck he pretended to be. Thus, her voice proceeded to betray her efforts of confidence, shaking and stammering over the simplest of words. "--I don't-- I'm not threatening you, please don't think that, I'm simply suggesting that I... I can't be pushed aside. And that my upset is... justified--"

Abruptly, Natalia was prevented from protesting further when Sven approached and physically shut her up, his hand gripping the lower part of her face while the other shoved her against the wall. It wasn't a severe punishment but it did allow him to assert his dominance, using the closure of the space between them and his height and power to intimidate the other; to remind her that despite his facade, he was -and always would be- in charge.

The power and dominance on display faded away impressively quickly at the sound of Carina's approaching footsteps. All at once, the young Prince flinched back from Natalia and allowed a meek smile to return to his face, his mouth opening and shutting as if unsure how to spark a discussion with Carina. He dared to cast a glance across to Natalia just once more, satisfied that she was going to maintain her silence out of love and loyalty, before letting his anxious gaze settle on Carina.

"I... really think we ought to, ah... go now. Natalia can wait for the guard to return, but we should go-- back to breakfast. In case my parents do make an appearance. Besides, I... I never got to finish my coffee," he laughed quietly, that even managing to be imbued with a hint of nervousness. "I... I trust your brother is... okay? I hope so, I... I can't... imagine what your people are going through, Carina; I'm sorry."
 
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He couldn't imagine what her people were going through, and Carina never expected him to. The ice princess never expected the little spineless sap of a prince to imagine anything of himself, of her, of this kingdom - of anything. For the next two months Carina kept up her act, continued to play her game. She used tears and a soft touch to get more time with her brother in the dungeons, her smiles and her mind to play with the King and the Queen; she even whispered seduction into a guard's ear, filling his mind with sultry promises she had not intention of keeping in order to find out information she knew she wouldn't get from Sven or the bitch Natalia. Of course now and again actions had to be put with the words to keep him interested, but it was necessary. Nothing of her virtue was lost, just roaming and wandering hands, lips against neck or lips. She felt disgusting afterwards, needing a boiling bath afterwards, but she kept thinking to the end game. And it amused her how easy it was to manipulate the people in this kingdom.

In reality, Carina should have realised how easy it was. Too easy.

During those two months, she planned a wedding she wished wasn't necessary to her own final plans. This may be forced onto her, but she would use it to her own advantage. Each new detail that popped up, Carina wanted to gag. The flower arrangements she had to choose from, she wanted to rip to shreds. The place settings to decide upon, she wanted to sweep from the table and see the china smash into hundreds of tiny pieces. She wanted to encase the Queen in an icy prison during each measurement she had corrected on her bride's dress. All of her kingdom's traditions were disregarded, laughed at openly in front of her. She longed to spit ice into their face, watch icicles pierce their eyes, impale their throats. Carina wished to stand there and watch as they drowned in their own blood, the clear ice spearing their throats turning pink, dripping with watered down scarlet.

At night she woke to her one hand wrapped around the white bracelet that still hung on her wrist. It seemed so simple to get off, like it was a bangle she could just slip over her wrist. But it was too small to get over the bones, having been clipped there. She would scream into her pillow at night, just to release the true emotion she felt from the day.

But it wasn't just a wedding she planned, Carina had put together all the final pieces for her uprising. She had managed to get an extra key, keeping it hidden for a few days until the guards stopped checking the prisoners in the dungeons for it and assumed it had simply been lost somewhere else in the castle. After explaining the layout of the castle, walked by her along or with Sven or just told to her by her guard, Carina had told her brother to attack the night of the wedding. The King and Queen would undoubtedly be drunk once again. On alcohol and their renewed power. All of the guests would be. They wouldn't hear a thing once they were passed out in their beds. Then her brother and their people could take the rest of the castle. Then they could come for Sven. He could be treated the exact same way they had treated her brother - cruelly and without mercy.

The wedding ceremony came, and the wedding ceremony went. There was no white on her dress, and no blue for her kingdom. It was like she had been drenched in the lava and fire of the kingdom that had taken her. Lace and chiffon, red and burnt oranges, cut-out panels at her waist which were covered again with the lace. The skirt was a-line, created with chiffon that flowed and moved, her throat and shoulders and upper chest were all bare thanks to the off-shoulder neckline. Her hair pulled up to keep her neck bare, her face lightly made-up because of the heat. The King had walked her down the aisle, and she wanted to rip his head off in disgust at his actions.

Carina barely heard anything of the vows, the traditions or the 'I do'. She wanted to scrub her lips after their kiss. The cheers and clapping burned her ears. Carina could have murdered them all. That thought continued to pound in her head like a war drum as she sat at the head of the table with the boy-Prince, allowing herself to get a little tipsy on the wine. She didn't have to be sober until later. His snivelling, nervous and meek behaviour had her stomach turning in a mixture of rage and annoyance. His parents wanted an heir. How they expected to get one from this boy, she had no idea. He acted like he would faint at the mere sight of a naked woman.

She shared a bed with him that night, not in the consummating sense that she knew they would all expect of them. Wanted from them. Carina had convinced him to wait, gently suggesting that it may be 'better' and 'more special' once they got to know one another better. Really the thought of him touching her in any particular way made her want to be sick. So she had dressed for bed in the bathroom adjoined to his room, brushing out her hair in the vanity mirror afterwards, and climbing under the covers with a soft smile.

But turning her back to him, and allowing her breathing to fall into one that was natural for a sleeping person, Carina was unable to fall into the slumber she wanted. Her thumb stroked over the black wedding ring band that now adorned her ring finger, and her adrenaline pumped throughout her body. Her nerves too wired as she waited for the inevitable crashing down of the bedroom door that would symbolise her freedom and with it, her reign.
 
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It became abundantly clear to Sven during the two months that flew by that Carina continually and consistently underestimated the man she was going to marry; a man she saw as little more than a boyish nervous wreck too intimidated by life to even lift his eyes up from the floor. He took pride in being able to pull the wool over her eyes in such a manner - it wasn't a surprise to him when he had managed to successfully manipulate everyone else in his life but Carina wasn't just some servant he had managed to deceive. She was the ice princess from Eira - and in his eyes, she should have known better than to have devoted herself entirely to her secret plans without taking time to realise just how easy it all was.

As carefully constructed and as successful as his facade was, Sven had anticipated to have to endure some suspicion from Carina. Perhaps a bombardment of questions, interrogating him over whether he was as truly pathetic as he was perceived to be. Receiving nothing of the sort was simultaneously hilarious and irksome, though in the grand scheme of everything, the lack of scrutiny was fundamental in the formation of his own plans.

Carina could dedicate herself entirely to ensuring her people were prepared for the eventual attack, too consumed by it to realise her shortcomings. To realise that every move she made, Sven was already one step ahead of her.

The key mysteriously going missing was the first real evidence the young Prince needed to confirm that all his suspicions of a vengeful attack from the Eirian prisoners weren't misplaced. And so, as he appeared overwhelmed with wedding preparations and his parents' often unfairly placed judgement and harshness because of it, he was quietly working on preparing to ambush the rising rebellion when it broke out... while keeping the King and Queen, his parents, in the dark.

He had no inclinations to report Carina's behaviour to them or even prepare them for a potential attack as they slept in their beds. Why would he? He wanted them dead. He could wait until he was King to slaughter them under some falsified excuse and risk turning his people against him, or he could patiently wait for Carina's little attempt at an uprising to slaughter them for him instead. It was ridding him of the opportunity he had dreamt of, having desired for years to severe his father's head from his body with his own sword... but sacrificing that dream in this instance came with too many advantages to ignore. He would be the hero quashing the rebellion but also would be the son robbed of his loving parents.

Either way, the people would be firmly on his side; all his father's allies and friends prepared to defend their young new leader rather than turn against him if he slayed his parents himself.

It was why he insisted his parents knew about the approaching outbreak of resistance, ensuring the ambushing group he had gathered that his parents didn't want the additional protection because they felt they could adequately defend themselves - a lie instantly believed as a result of his parents' narcissistic belief that they were impervious to harm and as close to invincible a mere mortal could be.

And so, he too went through the two months devoted to the inevitable quashing of Carina's plans whilst also preparing for the inescapable union. Unlike Carina, he wasn't dreading it, and nor did he feel a swirl of disgust grow in his gut at the thought of their marriage. Contrary to all the nervous ramblings of unfairness and anxious squeaks that he felt as horrid as she did about it, he was as eager for the commencement of the marriage as his parents were. He understood the thoughts behind the union, and not only that, but he was in approval of them; he desired a consolidation of his power, and what better way of achieving that than through an heir? A child with an unquestionable right over both kingdoms?

He looked faint throughout the proceedings, shook anxiously after the meek kiss, sat with his head down and shoulders hunched at the proceeding celebrations: all of which belied the delighted joyousness that he wanted to be able to properly express, but declined to do so. Until Carina's little rebellion was brushed aside and his parents dead, he had to maintain the facade, but now they were married, it was only a matter of time before the truth revealed itself.

He had no idea when the attack was to commence, but he would bet his life on it happening that night; the night of their marriage. Carina was smart; he knew she would wait for the marriage until she put her plans into action. So now that they were, why would she resist waiting even a day longer? The sooner her people were out of the dungeons, out of the perpetuating horrors of the cells, the better for them all - and so this night seemed like the night she would choose to achieve that.

He managed to smile quietly across at his new wife as she eased into bed, doing very little other than to return the expression and turn to his side as if preparing to sleep. In reality, he remained wide awake, adrenaline coursing through his own body as he awaited the news he was longing to hear; waiting patiently for a servant to burst into the room, news of bloodshed and attacks crying from their lips. Until then, he would feign sleep and lay silently, only allowing a smile to creep onto his expression the more time ticked on by.

The closer it got to Emmett and the others' plans stumbling before they ever got going.

The closer it got to ruining Carina's life once and for all.

He was left to imaginatively depict his parents' slaughter in his head during that time, concocting violent, bloody images of their deaths and hoping that the reality that was possibly playing out right that minute was as torturous and nightmarish as he desired it to be. It pained him that he wasn't the one to end their lives, so the least he wanted was for the Eirians to meet all the expectations he now held over it. It was during one of these fascinated envisions that the time he was waiting patiently for finally arrived: a young servant girl, red-faced and borderline hyperventilating, rushed into the room, too panicked to properly apologise for the interruption.

Instead of the crashing down and capturing of Sven, the girl was alone as she anxiously cried of the rebelling prisoners' attacks on the King and Queen and several guards that came in their way. Rather than speak of the Eirian prisoners' successes in ambushing an unsuspecting castle, she breathlessly informed Sven that they had been captured by a well-prepared and expectant group of guards, unaware that it was Sven himself who had gathered and prepared the group for such an occasion. He had to fight off the smile that arrived as he peered out into the hallway at the sight of several of said guards wrestling a captured Emmett to his knees, that image confirming that all his plans were close to fruition.

"...You may want to come out into the hallway, Carina. I'm sure you can enlighten me on what's going on. Or... your brother can; one of you is to blame for... for all of this," he murmured carefully, his brows knitting together as he tied a robe around himself and ventured out into the hall, making sure to place a look of distraught and grief onto his expression. "My... parents-- are they really dead? I... would like to know, Carina. If that's the case, if you know that to be true-- tell me. Or you, Emmett. Are they... dead?"
 
  • According to Plan
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Carina knew that something had gone wrong, horribly and terribly wrong, the moment the door had not come slamming down onto the ground from its hinges. The way it had simply been thrown open to bang against the wall. The lack of male voices. The lack of her brother's voice. She sat up in the bed at the maid servant's voice, lips parting and brow furrowing at the words that were coming from her mouth. This didn't make sense. None of this made sense.

Then it did. It all suddenly, abruptly and cruelly did.

A well-prepared group of guards just so happened to be waiting outside in the hallway for her brother and her people? Seemingly knowing what was happening, what was going to take place that night? The route her brother was going to take in order to reach his older sister?

It was all she could do to stumble to the bathroom with enough time to expel the contents of her stomach. She spat into the toilet bowl as she heard Sven's voice, hand shaking as she reached up to rid herself of the view she currently had, flushing it away. This couldn't be happening. This was not how it was supposed to go. Right now she was supposed to be lording this victory over the Ignisi Prince, having the bracelet removed from her and her brother's wrist. Having her people round up those who were not loyal to pack them into the dungeons below.

Carina could barely swallow down a mouthful of water as she moved, slowly, in a tortured manner, to leave the bedroom and join her new husband in the hallway. Her eyes immediately found her brother's as he struggled within the hold of the guards, her face losing all colour but she clasped her hands together to hold them in front of her. Her eyes desperately tried to apologise to Emmett, begging for his forgiveness. She knew she had failed him, failed her people.

Her lips parted, her answer on the tip of her tongue. The blame delicately balancing there, ready to stain her skin. But Emmett interfered.

"Your parents are dead. I made sure to do it myself. Removing the head of your father as my people held your mother and made her watch. His blood now stains their bed, their sheets are drenched in it. As for your mother, I snapped her neck. I left their bodies for our people to finish with. Fists and feet will beat them until they're unrecognisable." Emmett ground out, "And I don't regret a single second. You would have been next, you pathetic excuse for a Prince. I would have wrapped my hands around your throat and squeezed."

Carina's hands shot to her mouth as a heavy punch was landed across Emmett's face, a strangled noise escaping her as she watched the blood of her brother drip onto the floor from his mouth. Her eyebrows knitted together as she heard him laugh weakly, raising his head again, "I would do it all again if it meant getting my sister away from you. Away from all of you disgusting Ignisi bastards." Emmett added, spitting onto the floor as he took the blame for it all.

Carina could barely look at Sven, the horror of what was truly happening crushing down against her shoulders. Her chest was tight and her knees were weak, though she attempted to push herself forward, trying to move toward her brother.
 
Was Emmett truly prepared to take the blame for his sister? That was commendable. Idiotic, but commendable.

Sven remained silent as the captured boy proceeded to spit and hiss out his crimes; murders so violent and savage that it ought to make any child recoil in horror at knowing their parents had undergone such horrors. Instead, Sven listened intently for all the details Emmett was willing to divulge. He could pick apart the methods chosen and depict areas he would have improved upon, but generally, he found himself content that his parents had been adequately dealt with in a manner they deserved. They were dead and ultimately that was all that mattered, but knowing how badly they had suffered brought him comfort and enjoyment.

After years of physical and mental abuse at their hands, the constant belittlement and frequent beatings, he felt more than justified to take pleasure in their shared demise. Especially now it allowed his rise to the throne, a place he was always destined to be and deserving of.

The continual insults, words dripping with fury and disgust, did little to alter Sven's neutral expression as he remained irritatingly indifferent to Emmett's outburst. He stood calmly before the other, failing to react to whatever foul insult was thrown at him or however twisted Emmett's expression became in his anger and fierce desire to protect Carina from the inevitable repercussions of the night's events. Eventually, he had grown tired of the ramblings and sought to end them, his shoulders pushing back and a slow, derisive grin spreading on his face as he finally allowed himself to visibly enjoy the scene, rather than fight off such an expression in the effort to maintain a certain facade.

There was no need to keep that up any longer, and so fell the masquerade. The nervous body language disappeared as, all at once, that meek boy that Carina had been manipulated into knowing for two months was eradicated; simply thrown aside to make way for Sven as he was beneath it all. He wasn't a different person but the change in the body language and expression was so extreme and drastic that it may well have been someone new altogether. Even his voice was different: deeper, smoother, more confident.

"Do you really expect me to stand here and listen to that pathetic attempt at protecting the true perpetrator of this crime, Emmett? I'm well aware that you aren't the mastermind behind tonight's events," he drawled casually as he approached the other, a flicker of his eyes informing the guards not to intervene in the proceeding moments. Emmett was always destined to die - no matter whether the uprising had occurred or not, Sven had no desire to keep Emmett alive when his presence would always encourage Carina to fight against her oppressors. Without him, that spark would hopefully die. He hadn't envisioned murdering the boy himself, in the middle of the hallway in his pyjamas, but it seemed somewhat fitting.

As if Emmett's death was undeserving of even a semblance of dignity or respect.

From someone who had manipulated all those around him into thinking he was a nervous, pathetic wreck of a man, Sven's sudden actions stunned even the guards restraining Emmett. Sven, having prepared for the occasion, carefully removed a dagger hidden away on his person and, strode forward, quickly and purposefully. The sound of the sharpened blade making contact with Emmett's neck was crystal clear, albeit helped along by the repeated slashing and almost frenzied slicing from Sven's expert swordsmanship. His breathing was heavy from the exertion of energy, his face splattered with the blood of his enemy as he stood to his feet to admire his handiwork, an almost maniacal grin widening on his features at the astonishingly quick beheading.

"... Did you honestly think I wouldn't know you were plotting all of this, Carina?" He finally murmured as he absently gestured for the guards to remove the two distinct parts of Emmett now left behind, absently running a finger along his blood-soaked dagger in apparent fascination, though his eyes, wide and glinting, focused completely on his new wife.

He didn't wait for an answer, a hand reaching out to grab her neck: not hard enough to restrict her from talking, but with enough force to at least restrain movement.

"I knew. I've always known you were playing me; showering me with affection whilst plotting my demise. What do you take me for: a fool? Oh, I've always known you were a deceptive little bitch, Carina. Because I've deceived you. Difference is, I'm smart enough to have done it successfully. I fucking win, and you? You fucking lose," he hissed in a sudden, abrupt explosion of anger as he leaned his face down to physically close the space between them, their faces now just centimetres apart.

"...Your brother died because of you; I hope you remember that. If you didn't come up with this little plot, who's to say he wouldn't still be alive and well in the dungeon? Instead, his head will be shoved on a spike on display in the castle and his body will be burned; his ashes discarded someplace unknown to you. Well done, Carina; you've really played a blinder tonight."
 
  • OMG
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His voice. His voice was completely different. And... and his body language, his positioning. He wasn't hunched over, his head was no longer bowing under the gaze of those surrounding him. He no longer had anxiety plastered across his face or showed the grief a normal boy may have shown for the death of his parents. It was then that Carina realised what had happened and her stomach threatened to expel whatever she had left within it. She had been played, she saw that now. She had been lulled into a false sense of security to which she could never recover.

And her brother was now paying the price.

"No, Emmett. No please, no. Please!" Carina stumbled after Sven as she saw the blade glint, eyes widening as she knew what was to come. A guard stepped in from behind her, grabbing her arms to pull them behind her and keep her still in place. Her eyes never left Sven's back as the first swipe of blade against flesh and vein and arteries, the grisly grind of metal against muscle and sinew, blood spraying and dripping onto the hallway floor.

She could barely her the sound of gurgling as her brother drowned in his own blood, coughing and spluttering and gagging for breath. There was a piercing, high-pitched noise coming from somewhere and it was only until the guard's rough hand raised to wrap around her jaw and force it up did she realise it was her screaming.

Carina squeezed her eyes tight as tears began to drip down her cheeks, her breathing unsteady and shuddering with every inhale as her body trembled.

It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault.

Forcing herself to open her eyes again at the sound of his voice, the vision of him blurry through the unshed tears, she could see him run his finger over the blade that held her brother's blood. A sob left her lips and she sagged within the guard's hold, only straightening as his hand wrapped around her throat. Carina sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as she felt the warmth of the crimson liquid from his blade on the side of her neck. It was staining her skin - she wasn't sure she would ever feel clean again after that, her brother's demise would live with her, torment her, for the rest of her life.

She tried to move away, but his grip caused a pinching sensation around her throat, bruising the skin. A soft noise of protest came from within her chest, eyebrows furrowing and knitting together as she compelled herself to hold his gaze and take his words. They rained down on her, piercing her skin as if it were the blade in his hand, stabbing and twisting into her chest.

He was so close. His hot breath fanned out on her cheek, his positioning leaving her no choice but to look at him. If she could move, it would have been very tempting to latch her teeth on to his nose until she felt his blood on her tongue. Instead she settled to spit at him, body trembling in a mixture of grief, rage and devastation.

"Kill me then," Carina dared him, her expression one of juxtaposition. Her eyes were filled with tears for her murdered her brother, for the loss she had experienced in both her brother and the failure of her uprising. Yet her jaw was set and her eyes were narrowed, which helped the tears spill over. "I'm assuming you've got all you wanted, you manipulative bastard. My kingdom, your throne, the pleasure of having the two orphaned Eirian children at your mercy to murder personally... So do it. Finish off the line and erase us forever." She spat again, this time at his feet, "Ignisi scum."
 
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The anguished screams, wrought with pain and shock at the brutal murder, did little to quash the unsubtle smile of smug enjoyment fixed upon Sven's newly hardened features. After two months spent around Carina, feigning anxiousness in her presence and flinching if she came too close or spoke too loudly, he wanted nothing more than to reduce her to the quivering wreck he had pretended to be that entire time. He actively sought to ruin her; to break her spirit and have her displaying nervousness in his presence - as anyone ought to. His parents hadn't achieved that to the extent he desired. They were raucous, brash rulers who enjoyed nights of debauchery, prioritising that more than their reputations in the kingdom, or so Sven thought.

All he had wanted to do when he was ruler was to separate himself from the way his parents had acted. Their alcohol-driven nights of indulgence had done little to convince the populace that they were people to be feared. They were instead the relatable rulers who enjoyed alcohol and partying as much as the next person - and that wasn't entirely the way a ruler ought to be perceived as. Sven wanted to put that right. He wanted to instil fear into his kingdom; to ensure that as much as they all saw him as a powerful King best placed to protect Ignis, they also feared putting a foot wrong in the knowledge that the punishment would be unnecessarily brutal.

And Carina wasn't exempt from that. He wanted her to be scared and to display all those emotions he had falsified throughout the two months, and yet, he almost welcomed his wife's harsh words and refusal to back away into a corner. He didn't want her to be feisty and to fight against him, but he let his smirk widen in response to her attempt at defending herself; to go down with a fight.

It just gave him the justification to reprimand her for it. He needed no justification, admittedly, but it was always helpful to have one nonetheless.

His grip on her throat tightened at the spits, a spare hand calmly wiping his cheek with a roll of his eyes, which hardened the moment the amusement faded in place of a rising, burning anger. With his hard, blue-eyed gaze, twisted scowl and locks of his red-hair falling over his forehead, he did appear more like his father than ever before; a sentiment he would naturally be furious about. He couldn't deny the aesthetic similarity between him and the man, but he despised the idea of being compared to him in any way.

His father was -or had been- a brute of a man who hadn't been afraid of getting what he wanted through violent, bloody means, behaviour Sven knew he himself possessed too. But he also knew his father lacked the ambition, intelligence and manipulative streak his son had; qualities the Ignisian knew would make him more of a challenge than his father had ever been.

"...Ignisi scum? If you were to die, would you want those to be your last words, Carina? The unoriginal, all-too predictable attempts at an insult? Do try and put some effort into insulting me if you insist upon it; give me a reason to hurt you. Being called scum barely enrages me; I'm not that sensitive," he retorted after taking a moment to think his words through, his other hand moving to rest on the wall beside her head to physically close the space once more and consolidate the dominance of his presence. She wasn't going anywhere, and rather than say so, he opted to show it.

"You aren't going to die just yet, I need you. You didn't think I was going to kill you before you gave me an heir, did you? My father was many things, but his idea for us to produce an heir was, admittedly, a stroke of genius. And I intend on going ahead with that," continued Sven as the hand around her throat retracted, only to rest under her jaw to allow his thumb to lightly brush the corner of her bottom lip. It could be construed as gentleness and tenderness, but Sven didn't possess the genuine ability to display such characteristics, especially not with Carina. No, it was a deliberately cruel move to make her uncomfortable, both because it enforced the notion that she had no choice in anything and because his thumb left behind the stain of blood against the pale of her skin, a striking sight that made him suddenly grin in sadistic delight.

"I suppose I'd better go and see my parents. I don't think your brother did a wonderful job in killing them, I'd have really gone to town murdering them, but I suppose I can't be too unappreciative. Your brother did me a favour, Carina; I'm grateful for that. Hence his quick beheading; I could have chosen to let him suffer if I wasn't grateful. You should thank me for that. Go on; thank me."
 
Her hands now reached up to clasp around his wrist, nails digging into his skin as his grip tightened. It didn't cut off her airwaves, but it was enough to make things difficult, and make her aware of just how easily he could crush her windpipe should he choose to. In this moment, Carina realised just how alike he looked to his father. But this was different, power rolled off him in waves, intimidation stained his skin and an unbridled, sadistic nature was clear within his eyes. He may look like his father, but Carina knew that he would be nothing like the fat, alcoholic mess of a King who thought he had everything under control.

Carina had never felt more alone than she did in this one moment. Her entire family had been killed off, the remaining family member dying because of her. His blood was on her hands, and she would never forgive herself. She had no one to think of anymore, no one to continue fighting for except herself. And her life was on a countdown now.

She gagged as the scent of copper hit her, feeling the smear of blood as his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, and she couldn't help but draw that metallic smell deeper into her lungs. Yet she couldn't wipe it off, not with his hand around her jaw and the other arm pining her in against the wall. Carina was all too aware of the remaining guards that played witness and came to realise that they were probably just as shell-shocked at Sven's change in behaviour as she was. It seemed he had deceived them all, not just her, but his own Kingdom. Maybe except for that bitch Natalia - she remembered how she questioned his actions that one morning at breakfast. All this time it was there for to push further into, there for her to question. But she was so focused on freeing her brother, her people... and now it was too late.

"If you think I will let you come anywhere near me, you're insane," Carina hissed, but her knees trembled at the mere thought. He would be stronger than her, she had no access to the full extent of her powers. "You lost your only bargaining chip when you killed my brother. I have nothing to lose, Sven. You think I would allow you to plant any heirs in me? You honestly believe that I wouldn't do everything in my power to make sure you never meet the heir you so badly desire to have?"

Carina wished to anger him, to push him to a point where he crushed her throat by accident or decided to slit it with the same blade he used on her brother. It would be a quicker end than the one planned for her.

"You'll end up being as big of a disappointment as your father," she then sneered once he taunted her to thank him. "All this time, planning and scheming to prove that you can be more ruthless, more sadistic, so much stronger... but you'll always be of his blood, Sven. And his characteristics, his pathetic, weak nature of being a failure will always run within your veins. You'll be as disgusting, useless and pitiful as him."

Her hand remained around his wrist, the palm of her hand becoming bitingly cold as her suppressed powers pulsed under her skin. She was terrified, under these words, but she wasn't going to allow herself to be kept alive just to live as a brood mare. She would welcome death with opens arms. "Maybe I should carry your heir, it'll give me another nine months to watch you crash and burn like the woeful excuse for a King that you will, by nature, be bound to be."
 
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Carina could ramble for days about how much she detested Sven. She could venomously rant and rave about the refusal to assist him in his plans and help him in his desires. No cruel insults about him could hurt and no amount of resisting, however furious and fierce, would alter the inevitable course of action he fully desired to embark upon. He was confident enough in his abilities to not remotely care if Carina insulted them, and he knew that an heir was an absolute necessity to fail to be swayed by the strength of Carina's disgust about it.

She was his wife and therefore an heir with her would be legitimate, but beyond that, the son or daughter produced would have a rightful rule over both the volcanic kingdom of Ignis and their snowy counterpart of Eira. Carina was vital for that future to be realised and no amount of understandable backlash would change Sven's mind. Above all else, he desired power and an heir with a right to rule over both kingdoms would certainly satisfy that megalomaniac desire.

But there was one topic that disrupted the cool indifference he possessed regarding her other insults. One area that provoked in him such ferocity that he couldn't manage to adjust his expression in time to mask the anger she had successfully prodded to the surface.

His father.

Any similarities made between him and the man was bound to stir within Sven a disgust that flashed across his features. Almost instantly, as she embarked upon the tirade of poisonous insults, reminding him that the apple didn't fall to far from the tree and that he was destined to end up as much of a failure as he deemed his father to be, Sven's body language altered. He was no longer able to maintain a degree of casualness, nor capable of smiling smugly at her demise. His muscles twitched beneath the surface of his tanned skin and his eyes seemed to flame in disgust.

The hand that rested on the wall, however, literally flamed in response, the fist now engulfed with the flickering orange flames that, slowly, started to singe and melt the wallpaper beneath it. The explosion of his powers was inevitable under such emotional circumstances, unable to properly control the outburst as, all at once, he saw nothing but red. Desired nothing but to shut Carina up, permanently. A growl, guttural and deranged, escaped the back of his throat as he raised that burning fist, its destination unsubtle as he pulled back to gain momentum and to allow the unsubtle intensity of the fire to grow--

Though before the punch could land, Sven was interrupted. An interjection that, ultimately, would save Carina from the violence she had seemed destined to receive.

Natalia surveyed the scene quietly, her blue eyes wandering from the pool of blood on the wooden floor to the violent positioning of Sven's body and the flames that engulfed his hands. She knew the plans he had put into place so nothing ought to have shocked her about the scene... but never, not once, had she seen this side of Sven before. The anger and the power the rolled off him was enough to make her uneasy, gripping the shawl around her shoulders tightly in case her interruption would provoke some punishment too.

Instead, her presence seemed to relieve Sven of the anger a little and allow him to gather control of himself. He didn't need nor want Carina dead right now, and witnessing him pull his fist back and attempt to calm down encouraged Natalia to approach, slowly at first but making the rest of the distance up quickly with sudden glee. After all, all the two months of planning had resulted in success and she wasn't going to pretend not to be utterly delighted at the sight of Carina, defeated and overwhelmed.

"...You can carry my heir and watch me be the ruler my father never was. You can watch me stamp my authority on this kingdom and help it reach its potential, Carina. You might want to stick around for that, to see how a real King rules. Your father and mine were awfully pathetic at the role," eventually remarked Sven, his eyes only returning to Carina after the rather unsubtle romantic engagement with Natalia, having devoted a minute or two into holding her in his arms and reciprocating her eager kisses. He continued to hold the adviser close as she ran her fingers through his hair lovingly, sharing a smirk now and then with her.

"Now, if you're quite done trying to rile me up, you can spend the night in the dungeons. I'll have your brother's head on a spike down there to keep you company, if you wish? A little reminder of what your attempts of rebellion resulted in."
 
That bitch Natalia. Again ruining everything that Carina wanted. Her interruption caused Sven to stop with his rage that Carina saw as her way out of this hell. The acrid smell of melting wallpaper burnt her nose, mixing in with the scent of singed hair as the flames had caught a few loose strands that were too close to his fist. Fear had been present, undoubtedly, she was no fool. She recognised the power and untameable anger that rolled from him and threatened to suffocate her. But she would rather die by his hand than live in that fear for however long it took for her to provide him an heir.

Without her own ice to combat his flames, without the hope of one day having her brother freed, Carina truly didn't know what else she would have to live for. It was the first time, since her kingdom melted and she had been brought to this castle, that she felt utterly hopeless and useless.

Her lip curled in disgust as the adviser stepped into his arms, hand raising to her throat now she had a moment to in order to massage the tender flesh. She had had her suspicions about the two, although she had forced herself to expel those thoughts in the end. He had been so convincing, acting like he would have feared being around a woman so intimately. But again, Carina was left realising that she should have looked harder.

How she longed to rip them both apart, to feel their blood on her hands and feel bones crack beneath her fingers. Perhaps she would have simply rested a hand on their wrist and allowed her ice to infiltrate their bodies, freezing the blood within their veins and allowing it to crawl at a torturous pace throughout their bodies until it reached their shrivelled hearts.

Carina kept her mouth shut at his words, the blue of her eyes flaring slightly as her power throbbed through her veins - unreachable and incapable of use. Her silence continued as a guard approached to sharply take her arm, yanking her away from the wall. She then turned her gaze onto Natalia, baring her teeth in a vicious smile. She wasn't done. Not yet. The woman could provide her with her escape as much as he could, if she could just hit the right nerve.

"Just remember Natalie, you can warm his bed, but you'll never be able to give him what he really needs. Any child you give him will be bastard. The only reason why he keeps you around is because of what you have between your legs. Don't forget that." Carina laughed through her pain, attempting to pull her arm away from the tight grip it was in. "You'll never be able to provide what I can."
 
Natalia could pretend not to be affected by the other woman's words. She could scoff and laugh and brush them aside to instead focus on celebrating Sven's success and yet, despite intending to do every one of those things, there existed upon her expression an unsubtle flash of fear. It was only there for the briefest of moments; one could have blinked and missed it, for it was replaced immediately with Natalia's infuriating smug grin as she clung onto the arm of her lover.

Yet there was no denying that the fear had been there, for that second or two. That realisation that Carina, though taunting, was truthful - only she could produce Sven with what he desired the most. Nothing Natalia could do could live up to that. All the loyalty and love she showered Sven in, however dutifully she acted and however hard she celebrated his victories... none of that would be worth more than the baby Carina would possibly provide him with. That was what Sven wanted most and the adviser, suddenly, felt cold to her core at recognising that she could never make him that happy.

She didn't dwell on it, or at least tried not to, as she scoffed dismissively and turned back to Sven, eager to celebrate with him someplace more private away from Carina, who she now deemed more detestable than ever.

Sven wasn't naive to the flash of fear in Natalia's eyes, knowing there and then that she was possibly a link he ought to dispose of. She was weak and prone to manipulation, as evidenced by her believing that she was loved by Sven when, in reality, he just used her whenever he needed her, in whatever aspect of his life that was for. If he could manipulate her, it stood to reason that Carina could too. Natalia could be swayed against Sven, encouraged to assist Carina if the penny dropped that she meant nothing to him and would always be second best to Carina (and what heirs she could provide Sven with).

He knew he ought to kill her; to simply dispose of the potential trouble she might present to him if Carina did get her claws into the girl. Yet, he opted against such a move. Whether it was over-confident of him or not, Sven trusted that he would always be able to manipulate Natalia; that he would always convince her of his 'love' for her and continue to keep her loyalty.

And so, he quietly leaned down to whisper into her ear, combining the motion with an unsubtle kiss to her neck to encourage a few excitable giggles from the woman. He faked a smile as she disappeared into his bedroom, letting the expression fade when she was out of view.

"You're starting to look pathetic, Carina. Just have a nice sleep in the dungeons tonight; we'll see one another tomorrow, for breakfast. The first breakfast without my parents, I... I'm not sure how I... I will cope," he whispered as his voice cracked, slipping seamlessly back into the pathetic, nervous facade he had so easily manipulated her with. Such a facade cracked again when his deep laughter broke out in amusement, gesturing once more to the guards to restrain Carina, tighter than they were already, and guide her to her sleeping quarters for the night.

"Enjoy the dungeons, my love. If you behave yourself, you can have a proper bed tomorrow. I don't want my wife suffering like this, so don't give me more reasons to force you into these unfortunate situations."
 
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