Playing with Fire

"Then perhaps I'll make you a deal, I'll believe you had no intention to hurt me last night the moment you believe that I actually do love you and never wanted to see you hurt." Carina retorted swiftly, "In the mean time, I will class you as whatever I want since you have so clearly done the same for me. Do not expect what you do not give in return, Sven."

Her words were quick, sharp, akin to a lash of a whip if she had one in her hand to strike at the air. The emotion felt in response to last night's events, that she had thought she had smothered down deep enough, was just as red hot as when it all came crashing down on her what he had done. It only burned stronger as he continued to apologise, doing exactly as she had done a week and then a day before: apologising, taking responsibility, and then asking her to see he didn't have any intention (or in her case, any involvement anymore). Only expecting her to accept it for what it was: his word. In her mind, she had no reason to do anything of the sort, because he had not offered the same courtesy.

"Please, if I wanted you to be on your knees and begging for forgiveness it would have happened last night." She seethed, finally standing from the desk with the intention to either go for a walk or see Lorcan to calm herself down.

Carina had witnessed first hand over the last week just how uncontrollable her powers could be if her emotions became too overwhelming; something she hadn't had to worry about since she was 10. However, those long months with that bracelet smothering her ice had caused her to become complacent, and forget that she had to worry such things.

"I will be back shortly, feel free to do some of the work you believe isn't any of my busi-" Carina cut off at his groan, stumbling slightly at the noise of pain which led to a bursting throb to come from the burn on her leg as her ankle, and therefore skin, twisted slightly.

However, she shoved it aside, easier to do with the dampening effects of the pain medication now coming into its own. Her eyes dropped nervously down to his shirt, immediately looking for any blood beginning to stain the material. When none was found, her shoulders sagged in relief, Carina having not realised they had become so tense from his groan alone. She stepped forward, squaring her shoulders and ensuring there was no limp to be found in her gait, despite the ache it caused her.

Uncaring to the argument they were just having, or the demeaning position she was about to put herself in during this moment in their relationship, Carina knelt down beside the sofa and looked up to him. The hardness from before still lingered, but now it was marred with worry. "Either let me look or so help me God I will freeze your hands to this overly stuffed piece of furniture and freeze your lips together so you can't bloody well complain." She told him firmly, holding his glare for a breath longer before glancing to Natalia, "Could you fetch the doctor? Better to be safe than sorry."

Her gaze flickered back to Sven, "Don't dare fucking argue."
 
Sven was left to grimace in mild irritation as the sort of fuss he was desperate to avoid suddenly erupted around him, from Natalia's concern and subsequent exit from the room in search of the royal physician, to Carina's knelt position at the couch, determined to take a look at the wound for herself.

He knew that he might not have proceeded to try and stitch himself up had he not been drunk and emotionally all over the place after the flames he accidentally inflicted upon his wife, but he also wouldn't have called for help. Even if he was sober, he would have simply pressed a towel to the wound and waited until the morning, when he could find the physician and deal with the matter in private.

He wasn't at fault for the attack, but the fact it had occurred and left him genuinely fearing his death would arrive made him feel weak. The entire kingdom knew that their King had been placed into such a precarious condition, so, when he wanted to represent strength to ensure they always felt protected, he was subsequently left feeling... concerned that faith in him would be lost. It was another of his paranoias he couldn't shake from his thoughts, however irrational and ridiculous he, deep down, knew it was.

That didn't stop him from willingly putting himself at great risk of infection and subjecting himself to unnecessary agony just to avoid a fuss being made... and word spreading about him not being at his full strength, however understandable the latter it was.

He wanted to call after Natalia and bring her back, and he simultaneously wanted to shirk Carina's efforts to examine him, but he knew better than to push against her warning tone and hard glare. With all the reluctance of a temperamental teenager, the man waited as long as he could in the hope she would miraculously back off and leave him alone before groaning in annoyance and lifting his shirt up, taking his time to do so when the throbbing injury rendered every movement painful.

"...It's... worse than it feels," he weakly lied as he shot a glance down at the semi-open wound, no longer held together by the professional stitches Sven had inadvertently ripped at some point after the incident with Carina. Rather than the tidy, neat finishing in place most the week, the man's messy threading was weak and inefficient, leaving much of the wound exposed - and at risk of bleeding if he moved positions abruptly, hence his wise decision to remain as still as he could.

"I was just... I didn't want to alert anyone. It came open and there was-- a lot of blood, I panicked, and... I don't know. He's going to be furious with me; the physician, I mean. He's going to scold me like I'm a damn child," he groaned as he feebly rested his head back onto the cushion behind him, his eyes searching for the now abandoned cigarette on the table, just out of his reach.

"Pass my cigarette, would you? I know you don't care for the habit but it's the one thing that'll take my mind off, you know, possibly losing pints of blood if I move an inch."
 
Once he began to lift his shirt, Carina reached out to help, making sure to touch only the material after the scarring words last night that he didn't want to touch her. She folded the shirt up and placed a hand over the loose end to pin it to his lower chest with the tips of her fingers, attempting to keep the contact to a minimum, subconsciously out of hurt. Her expression, however, fell, at the sight of the reopened wound and she dropped her gaze briefly to the cushions of the sofa out of the immediate guilt she experienced. It was diabolical, and while her guilt towards what she had caused had never faded, it came back with a fiery passion.

"Stop-- stop lying to yourself." Carina whispered, quickly turning away after encouraging him to hold the shirt up. She went to the breakfast tray before appearing back at his side with one of the napkins that had been brought up on it.

Her eyes avoided his as she put her hand back over the folded material and carefully pressed the napkin to the wound, covering the poorly made-up stitches. She winced, almost for him, as she applied pressure, staying still once she had done so as to not inadvertently catch one of the looser stitches he had created. Carina shook her head at him, swallowing thickly, "I'm furious with you. What were you thinking? You should have called for him straight away. You're such a stupid idiot-- what if it got infected? What if you lost too much blood and passed out? Hm? Next time just set aside your stubborn pride and call the damn doctor."

She was mad at him now, but for a wholly different reason. While she still believed he truly wanted to hurt her last night, that didn't mean she could set aside the deeply rooted love she had for him and not be scared at the sight of the semi-opened wound and hearing him explain how there was a lot of blood. Her emotions, as he observed last night, clearly weren't going to be as black and white as she had hoped.

The burn under her own bandages and clothes began to throb the longer she remained knelt on it, causing her to grimace and shift to sit on her side, the leg with the injury stretched out. Apart from that, Carina stayed at his side, keeping the napkin over the wound.

"If you think I'm giving you that stick of death, you can forget it. You aren't going to lose anymore blood because the physician is coming and I've got the pressure on in case it does. So stop being so dramatic." She told him, rolling her eyes, the action and tone of her voice all to hide the truth of the care she had.
 
The pressure that had to be applied to the wound resulted in a few choice words being spat out through gritted teeth in an effort to abide the pain that cruelly reverberated throughout his entire being. The cussing wasn't aimed at her, his head tilted to the side in order to all but scream into the cushion at his side, though the sound was thankfully muffled as a result of the action. The last thing he wanted was to alert more people to his distress by screaming at the top of his lungs in agony without anything constricting the noise, after all.

When the worst of the immediate pain had subsided (or he had just gotten accustomed to its searing agony, he wasn't sure), he shakily brought the cigarette back to his lips and focused on the contentment it brought to him. The habit wasn't the greatest, and one he had been eager to try and quit for Carina -and Lorcan's- sake, but he wasn't more thankful for his cigarettes than he was right now when they were the only thing helping to keep his mind from becoming overrun with concerns about what damage he might have potentially done to himself.

The harsh reminder from Carina made him grimace, both in annoyance and fear that she was right, eyes snapping back across to her to communicate the former. He wasn't prepared to admit that he was scared; not when things between them currently didn't allow that sort of openness to be shared.

"May I remind you I was drunk? And also rather... horrified by what I'd done to you? My head was all over the place, I wasn't really thinking straight, Carina," he grunted under his breath as he rested his head back and attempted to calm himself, taking in slow, deliberate breaths only interrupted by the frequent, desperate drags of the cigarette resting loosely between his fingers.

But he wasn't so caught up in dealing with his pain -and the possible consequences of his idiocy in sewing the wound up himself- to not notice the grimace resting on her lips and the way her leg had been adjusted to avoid much of the pressure of her knelt positioning. The realisation behind her movement made his own grimace appear, regardless how much he wanted to yell at himself that he shouldn't care; that communicating that concern was unnecessary.

But he ignored that voice and proceeded anyway, peering over to her with the grimace remaining in place.

"...How's your leg? You shouldn't be kneeling like that, it'll make the pain worse, I imagine. I've never been... burnt, I literally can't experience that, but I... I'm aware of how painful it must be. So sit up, sit on the coffee table, take the weight off the injury. I'll accept you telling me what to do if you return the favour and listen to me in return: you're not helping yourself by putting so much pressure on it so... sit up before it exacerbates the burn. Lorcan can't have both of us injured and in bed, incapable of moving, can he? If I'm going to have to be forced to bed to recover, our son at least needs you in action, comforting him. I'm not-- as cruel as you suddenly seem to think I am."
 
"Yes well... you know what they say: a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts." Carina reiterated her thoughts from last night to him, nose wrinkling at the smoke she was so close to now with him having managed to worm his way into getting the cigarette back between his fingers. She was not so keen to elaborate on the rest of her thoughts from last night, however, thinking it best to not remind him of the hurt that his words - which she doubted he even remembered now - caused; that some of them cut deeper than the physical wound he inflicted.

She turned her head away from him to look towards the closed study door, impatient for the physician and Natalia to arrive. Though she suppose there were many corridors and floors between this room and the physicians, and that was if the man was even in his office.

However, his advice did not go down too well, and Carina sharply looked back to him, "I'm fine," she replied bluntly, "Why do you think I moved? I am fine like this now, leave it alone." Naturally she knew the irony of not appreciating his suggestions to take care of an injury he inflicted, when she was doing the same to him (even if she didn't strike the actual blow). But to Carina, she wasn't at immediate risk of creating one final tear in an already precarious wound which would lose her more blood. "The doctor has applied ointment, bandaged it and given me pain relief. I wouldn't be down here without any of that. Just... leave it be."

A soft, astounded laugh escaped her next and she dropped her gaze to where she pressed the napkin, "So he's back to being our son today, is he? I wonder how long it'll be until he's back to being just your son again." She murmured bitterly, a frown forming, "As I said, I will stop believing in your cruelty when you stop believing that I am... what were they? The traits you accused me of having? Oh yes, the deceitful, manipulative and power-hungry characteristics."

Her last words were accompanied by the study door opening, revealing the physician who took one look at the scene and immediately hurried over.

"Your Majesty, what happened?" He questioned and Carina pushed herself to her feet, smothering her wince this time. She allowed the doctor to have his space, moving around to the other side of the coffee table to stand near Natalia.

"I think I'll go for a walk, a brief one. I highly doubt my presence here when he's getting stitched up for a second time will... make things easier for him." She whispered to the adviser, turning her back to Sven and keeping her voice hushed, "And perhaps it's best if I... avoid him, and this office, for the next few days. I don't-- We don't need him popping those stitches again." Her gaze moved to look out the window over Natalia's shoulder, exhaling heavily, and then returned back to her, "If there's any work that I can help with, have a butler bring it to the library. I can work there on... whatever he's happy to let me see."

Carina glanced over her own shoulder then to peer towards Sven, eyebrows now knitting together anxiously before the expression was hidden and she moved for the door. The physician, meanwhile, gently peeled the napkin from his wound and sucked in a harsh breath, "My King... this... why did you not call for me sooner?"
 
Was there a moment where her sharp words (and possibly even sharper glare) felt like a dagger to his heart? Of course - when his love for her hadn't disappeared however hard he wished for it to, the curtness of her tone and refusal to heed genuine advice that came from a place of genuine care would always hurt. Just because things between them were difficulty, where trust had deteriorated and love incapable of being expressed now emotions had been forced back behind a veneer of indifference, Sven still felt a desire to care for her; he still felt that surge of concern race through him at the sight of the pained grimace that had rested uncomfortably on her features.

Just as she had grown concerned over his state and proceeded to help him in spite of all that had occurred over the past week. She had every reason to ignore his pained cries and leave him to suffer, so the fact she hadn't was evidence that her care and her love remained intact as his own had.

It might not be expressed upon openly, it might remain locked away to spare themselves of being hurt by someone who they no longer had trust for... but it was there nonetheless.

Granted, Sven wished it wasn't when it would be much easier to coincide in the castle without such complexities towards Carina (an intermingling of both love and hate) arising at the sight of her. It would be so much simpler if he knew where he stood with her, where any anger towards her wasn't undercut by the desire he still had to look out for her. To love her.

But enough had happened to warrant that expression of love impossible. For now, at least.

He hid the hurt from her words behind a falsified expression of bemused indifference, his eyes rolling as though her words meant nothing to him when, in fact, they only served to emphasise the distance that had grown. A distance he knew he was partially responsible for allowing to grow as much as it had with his cruel doubts of her love for him. He knew now that that love existed... but enough words had been exchanged that admitting as such would just appear forced and, when they would be so out of the blue, manipulative.

And if there was one thing he wasn't going to be accused of being after he had made so much personal growth and progress to get past such behaviour, it was manipulative.

So he kept his mouth shut and allowed the annoyance at her words to override the genuine hurt (and regret) that had also momentarily stirred, the physician's eventual entrance forming a perfect distraction as his attention drifted towards the man with a reluctance he wasn't entirely thrilled about showing (he didn't want any bad news and the fear that would come from it to make him appear weak, after all).

"Because you were busy tending to the Queen and I didn't wish to distract you from the help she required. I dealt with it myself... however poorly," he responded as he avoided glancing down at the wound and instead kept his gaze focused upwards, summoning every ounce of strength he could to tolerate the pain.

Natalia watched for a moment, just to ensure that Sven wouldn't stubbornly refuse the treatment, before stepping from the room to inform a passing butler of the items that needed carrying to the library. She wanted to remain by the King's side, reassure him of her loyalty, but the clear disinterest he had in her presence encouraged her to leave - he needed to relax, not be infuriated by her, however innocent she was of the claims he made against her.

Ultimately, they were claims and accusations made in fear, from a man who had nobody else other than her right now. She wouldn't take offence to his assumption of disloyalty, however hurtful it might be to hear.

And so, opting to leave him in peace, she made her way to the library to await Carina and finish tending to the business (and breakfast) they had barely begun.
 
Stepping out into the morning light and the warm air of Ignis had Carina briefly dazed, her mind slightly clouded with the side effects of the pain medication. She took a moment to stand in the doors, a hand pressed against the one side of the frame as she looked out onto the gardens. She moved slightly to her right, standing behind the outwards opened door to lean against the wall there, her head tipping back and eyes closing, weight shifting onto her better leg.

His constant claims that he had been drunk and had been tormenting himself over what he had done to her did not sit easy on her shoulders. Back two weeks ago, Carina wouldn't have even fathomed the idea of Sven laying a finger on her, let alone a flame. She had felt safe in his arms and sought them out whenever she was able. She would relish the time that evening came, simply because she knew she would have him tucked up behind her, with an arm over her waist and a hand cradling the bump that was soon to be Lorcan. She had no qualms with opening displaying her care and affection, whether it have been with a kiss or a simple check to make sure he had eaten breakfast or lunch.

But now... she could not tell the truth apart from the lies. His seething rage last night had hurt more than the burn he had inflicted; knowing that some of his comments would stay with her long after the wound had healed.

She now understood that there had been no avoiding his drunken outburst of anger. In Carina's mind, it had been bound to happen, and to her, perhaps it was better it happened sooner rather than later. There would be no need to kid herself with the infallible hope that their love could grow once more. She saw their future for what it seemed to be: bleak and empty and shallow. All lip-service in the company of others and ignoring each other when alone.

Thinking back on it, Carina supposed there had been a glimmer of his care for her back in the study. He had communicated his worry to her about the wound, wanted her to get her weight off it and tend to herself.

However, it only left her feeling all the more confused. In her befuddled state she couldn't bring herself to recognise it as his own love and care remaining even as a piece of what it once was. Yet she also couldn't ignore it; no one else had been in the room with them, he had no need to act like the concerned husband when there was no one to put a show on for.

By the time Carina returned to the library, she was still slightly woozy from the pain medication she had taken. Nothing too serious, and something she was certain would wear off the more she took and the more her body got used to it.

However, when she reached the library to see the butler waiting in the spot that she had once sat in with Sven, the young man knowing it to be her preferred place, she was quick to correct him and move him along, frowning deeply and not casting the space another look as she walked passed it. Although that expression was replaced when she saw Natalia, a forced smile appearing as the butler organised a few tables closer together for them to work.

"You don't need to be here with me, you know. You should be with Sven, helping him with the more important items on your list. All I'm going to be doing is writing some swirling letters." She commented, moving to sit (not as gracefully or controlled as earlier that morning) in the armchair behind the small, round table the butler had pulled across for her. "I can handle a few signatures by myself... you should... go make good with him again."
 
"I know I don't need to be here, but I want to be. Besides, I don't quite think Sven needs me lurking over him right now when my presence isn't... his most required. He's irked with me so I'll give him some space for now. Perhaps later on after he's rested and received some pain medication... I'll try to reassure him of my loyalty then, though I won't lie to his face, Carina. I won't tell him what he wants to hear: I'm not two-faced, promising one thing to one person and something else to another. If I promised to work on this new start with you, then I'll tell him that, regardless if he likes it or not," she murmured quietly, her eyes dropping to the letters she had safely placed into the envelope and sealed, setting them neatly aside.

She was more than aware that Sven wanted her to swear her loyalty and devotion to their friendship, but his idea of loyalty was different to her own. Hers wasn't a loyalty that demanded exclusivity; she was prepared to be his friend and build friendships with others outside of their bond. It wasn't something he would even have an issue with if he and Carina weren't currently embarked in distrust and their opinions of one another married by all that had happened, so Natalia felt no desire to jeopardise a growing trust and friendship just because Sven petulantly decided she had to abandon it in favour of him.

As though she couldn't remain balanced and remain in possession of a maturity that allowed her to enjoy their company independently of one another.

As though she was a child, having to choose a side.

It wasn't the sort of person she sought to be: she could simultaneously be friends with Sven, and explore the budding bond with Carina, without their problems with one another impacting her friendships with them. Was it awkward at times? Of course - but nothing she couldn't cope with when she had endured far worse things in her life.

"...Anyway, I'd rather not, ah... discuss Sven when all I will do is worry about the state he's gotten himself into. The physician knows what he's doing, he's served the family marvellously through the years, so I've no doubt that Sven will be sent to bed to rest up without there being any lasting damage. As he rests, we'll get on with these letters: it's a tiresome job but someone has to do it," she smiled again as she reached for her cup of tea, the sweetness of the sugar cubes she had added (to help with the shock of seeing Sven's wound for herself) providing the calm she had sought from it.
 
"I'm not saying you have to be two-faced," Carina answered gently, reaching across to rest a hand on Natalia's in a gesture of comfort and support, "I'm just saying that he... might need the support more than I do. Maybe just some reminding that you were his friend first and you still are. I'm used to feeling... alone. Sven isn't. Despite his spiteful comments sometimes, we both know he doesn't mean it. He's just... hurting."

She didn't really know why she was defending him, and recognised the hypocrisy of her words, but their situations were (albeit marginally) different. Natalia would still have good favour with Sven, despite the latter acting otherwise. Carina knew she had no chance at receiving such a position after the past week. She didn't wish for Natalia to lose her position purely because of their new, budding friendship.

"We, of course, can still be friends. I've valued your support over the last few days and it's... it's meant a lot to me that you believed me despite everything we've been through with each other. I just want to ensure you stay here, now. Although I am questioning why you'd want to be friends with me at this point, it isn't as if I've got the greatest track record with those who get close to me." Carina snorted, reaching for the quill to begin on the letters once more. It would be a tedious exercise, but she supposed if it ticked something off Sven's long list of things to complete...

Exhaling quietly, she leaned forward and dipped the quill into the ink pot, eyes narrowing slightly against the slight haze over them. Blinking once or twice, the quill began to scratch against paper again, letters sweeping the page.

"Yes... yes of course. I-- I'm sorry." Carina answered as she wrote, quill tapping against the edge of the pot as she re-dipped, "But, ah, maybe it would be a good idea for you to see him later... to discuss the matter of Andrew with him. I don't know about you, but I do not feel comfortable with him being at the meeting tomorrow. I can make an excuse, like I said, another urgent meeting, perhaps. But I do not think it's in his best interest to be there in case he becomes... emotional again and pops those stitches again."

She paused, the grand calligraphy of her signature ending the letter which she passed to Natalia, "I can attend the meeting, with you there too, and we can figure it out with him later."
 
"Your track record may not be great, granted, but is mine? I've only had the one friend -Thorin and I never really got on- and that friendship was almost jeopardised because I... deceived him for weeks on end; lied so abhorrently. I assure you, your decision to possibly embark on a friendship with me is far more bewildering than I with you. You've proven to be a loyal friend whose friendship only broke down because you wished to protect and love Sven. I almost ruined my friendship with lies and cruelty, so... believe me, you're the one taking the risk, Carina; not me. I ought to feel grateful you're even willing to sit and talk with me when you have every reason to keep me an an arms' length."

The initial teasing tone had wavered slightly as she found her words spiralling from her lips without restraint; confessions she had been fighting back from releasing now falling out her mouth. The verbal bombardment of her innermost feelings -and continual disbelief that she was right back in the mix of the kingdom's business after her deception- was necessary, her chest immediately feeling lighter without them weighing her down, but when it had arrived so abruptly (she hadn't exactly prepared to confess it all in such a manner), she could only meekly smile in apology for it.

Like Sven, she was at least trying to be more honest when her past was tinged by a propensity for lying (regardless of the reason), so the confession would have been uttered into the universe at some point... albeit not in a hurried, rushed manner indicative of deep-rooted guilt.

"...I think it'd be best for him not to be there, yes. He needs rest. I can't imagine the arrival of a possible half-brother would be the calming, relaxing atmosphere he needs right now. I'll enquire with the physician regarding a sleeping remedy for tonight, which hopefully will keep him resting through much of tomorrow morning when Andrew is here. We can gather for ourselves whether his story and claims are credible; we don't need Sven complicating matters with heightened emotions," she continued in an effort to return to business, her eyes focused on the letters she was handed as she proceeded to seal them within addressed enveloped with expert efficiency.

"What... do you think about this man anyway? On gut feeling alone, I... do think it could be true, Carina. That this man is a brother to Sven. His father wasn't... unashamed to disguise his antics. If this Andrew is a half-sibling, I can't envision Sven taking that news well, can you?"
 
"Funny though... isn't it? How... we both did those things but you got the second chance and I... have nothing now." Carina supposed, thinking out loud before she released how awful it sounded. A look of horror descended over her features, "S-sorry... I-- I didn't mean it that way. I just-- I was just... sorry." She lowered the quill into the ink pot and rested her head on her hands, the heels of her palms pressing against her forehead. "Really this is your second chance and I squandered mine. Mine began when we at least became friends."

She lifted her head from her hands and looked back to Natalia, studying the other woman for a moment as she worked on what to say next. The painkillers had slowed her mind slightly, but that wasn't about to stop her from comforting the adviser. It wasn't subtle that her comments had come from a place of deep-rooted guilt and her small smile of apology didn't ease Carina's mind either.

The young queen reached out again, laying her hand upon Natalia's with a small smile of her own, "We've both... fucked up, Natalia. I'm not innocent in all this, I did still... plan things, albeit an age ago now, but I had encouraged the thought that led to what happened. I can't deny that. Let's not pretend that the one of us is better than the other when we're both lucky to have each other, yes?"

Carina took her hand away to begin pouring another cup of tea, knowing that they hadn't had the breakfast that they had imagined. It was her third cup of the day already, but not a single morsel of food.

"I won't be able to take any of these pain meds while we meet his brother. They definitely have their side effects and I can't afford to.... not be on form." She confessed, albeit sheepishly, "But yes, good idea about asking the physician about a sleeping remedy. It may also give him the opportunity to catch up on the sleep he has undoubtedly missed over the last few days."

She leaned back with her cup in hand, taking a sip and peering over the rim to Natalia as she considered the question, "It... would not surprise me if it were true. I didn't know the king for long but just hearing the rumours was enough. Besides, he made my skin crawl each time his gaze lingered on me for too long." She shuddered, grimacing at the memory of the late king, "But... yes... I am... uncertain as to how Sven will react. He may either enjoy a new person to possibly reconnect with or... hate it as the fact that there is now another in his castle that he cannot know for certain if he can trust. We can only... manage whatever he does throw our way."
 
Natalia would be lying if she said that Carina's words, the accidental cruelty of them, hadn't caused a pain to erupt in the very bottom of her chest, as though a dagger had been plunged deep into it and twisted mercilessly. Ultimately, she wasn't blaming the other for a comment that she herself had contemplated in bewilderment since the second chance had first been offered to her - and especially when Carina hadn't truly been offered one herself.

Her second chance had apparently been broken over a lie she made to protect a friend who was poisoning her ear with lies; plotting her death whilst protesting innocence. Such a lie wasn't worth the amount of bitterness, cruelty or hardship she had been made to endure; the indignity of being locked within her room, the pain of her love being doubted, the reluctant acknowledgement that the happy family she had foreseen for her son now lay in tatters.

None of those punishments fit the crime.

And yet Natalia's lies, promises of a child she knew she could never sustain, had been punished with a simple banishment; one that lasted a handful of months before she was invited back into the fold and able to return to work with not only her friendship with Sven back on track (present circumstances resulting from his paranoia aside) but she had discovered a chance to create a new one entirely with Carina.

None of it felt fair, and while she had desperately tried not to dwell on the unjustness of it, Carina's contemplative remark had not only forced that guilt to unwelcomingly arise, but to compound and make its home within her indefinitely.

"...No need to apologise, it's fine," came her eventual response, her smile appearing though tightened and not quite reaching her eyes. She didn't hold the comment against her, nor dislike her for it, but it had awakened a lot of self-discontentment that, with everything else going on that needed her attention, wasn't entirely welcome.

Nevertheless, she was quick to reassuringly return the light squeeze to Carina's hand, not wanting her to harbour any guilt of her own.

"I suppose all we can do is hope for the best. I don't necessarily... see a joyous celebration on the cards, but what do I know? Perhaps Sven will surprise me," she laughed as she reached for her own cup of tea, opting not to mention how little faith she had in that familial connection being accepted and built on. She had known Sven for years: she had a feeling he would react with paranoia, distrust and unsettlement, rather than optimistically welcoming in the chance to reunite with a brother he had never known.
 
Natalia's reactions to her words which had slipped out, her lips loosened by the pain medication and a thought that was only in passing which should have stayed a though, didn't make Carina feel any better. Despite the reassurance and the squeeze to her hand. This was a woman who had, despite their differences and their turbulent past, stayed by her side and believed her to be innocent of the charges put against her. She didn't deserve to be constantly reminded of her past mistakes, and Carina could only add the moment to the growing list of things to hate herself for.

"But it's not. I'm sorry, I-- I don't know what I was thinking." She told her, shaking her head, "It wasn't fair of me to think or say that and I can't take back what I said." Carina frowned, looking down at the paper before her ready to write on.

She put her cup down, fidgeting in her chair before finally leaning forward to reach for the quill again, "Accidental or not, I shouldn't be making you feel guilty for something that isn't even your fault." She add her final comment, biting at her lower lip afterwards, eyes remaining on the desk as she inwardly berated herself.

It only made her worry further about how much time it would take before she inadvertently destroyed the friendship she was creating with Natalia too. She was clearly, in her mind anyway, the common thread with her ruined friendships and relationships, so the toxic and anxious thought remained of why she should even attempt to build a bridge with Natalia when, sooner or later, she would (accidentally or on purpose) burn it to the ground. It was with this growing dark and gloom that Carina would have excused herself from the desk and taken herself to be somewhere alone. But Sven was incapacitated and Natalia couldn't handle all the work alone. She had to stumble away from the edge of the black pit that seemed to expand with each thought she had.

As quickly as Natalia put a smile on her face to reassure Carina, she did the same. While she said she would be more open with her emotions, that didn't mean the Queen wished for anyone to know the extent of the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole. She didn't wish to burden Natalia with it when their friendship was still so new, and Sven would have been the only other in the castle she would have divulged everything to. Now he had turned his back on her, distrusted her and seemed to think her incapable of truly holding any care or thought for him... well, she didn't want to burden anyone else.

"If we believe it to be true that he is Sven's brother, we'll invite him to stay with us, at least for a while before we can figure out... what to do. He might be illegitimate but he still has royal blood in his veins, after all." Carina busied herself with writing and speaking once more, not daring to linger much longer in her own thoughts. In which she considered if Lorcan could be bottle fed again, the promise of an undisturbed and painless sleep with the help of what the doctor prescribed lingering. "He can stay in an opposite wing to Sven, however, he might be family but as we recently learned, one can never be too careful."
 
"Carina; it's fine. I promise." Natalia emphasised with another nod, a firmness entering her tone in the hope of simply ending the potential for a further onslaught of apologies. One was more than enough - it wouldn't magically erase the hurt, but she didn't even necessarily blame the other for its existence. The hurt arose from guilt, rather than pain at Carina's referencing Natalia's... less than ideal past behaviours.

But the continuation of those apologies, however well-intended, only continued to compound the hurt and remind her of the pain she had endured. That in turn brought up guilt, an aching ball within her gut that tormented her every time she considered the punishment she had been forced to accept, reminding her that she had no reason to pity what had happened when she had been the first to inflict such pain onto others.

The weeks of uncertainty, depression and hopelessness were emotions she convinced herself she had no right to feel; that ultimately, her punishment was weak (especially now she could contrast it to what Carina had experienced) and thus feeling saddened by it was pathetic.

The less Carina apologised for one accidental remark, the less Natalia would be forced to deal with the voices of insecurity and self-doubt.

And when there was so much else that required her attention, she couldn't afford to spend her time giving energy to matters that would only drag her down into that pit of despair.

"Ultimately, I also think it would be best for Lorcan not to be in this man's company either, at least until we determine how much of a threat he is. if he is none, if his intentions are pure, then-- well, it is up to you and Sven whether you introduce this man to his... nephew. I have no right to advise you on what to do with your own son, but I'll at least recommend that we... ensure he's not a threat to the young Prince's life first. I'm sure you've already considered that, of course, I'm just... I want you to know that Lorcan's safety is ultimately a priority of mine. Amongst all my duties, I consider it the, ah... the most important," she responded as she calmly set the wax seal aside to momentarily sit back and focus on sipping her tea and enjoying the calm it brought.

Granted, there was a spike of fear that mentioning Lorcan and reiterating her desire to keep him safe would go against her, as though the jealousy would be registered and misconstrued as ill-feeling towards Carina when it wasn't the case. She was admittedly jealous when her broodiness had only intensified at the sight of Lorcan, particularly when she had tried for years to have a child (especially when she felt it would be the only way Sven would look at her as a love interest).

She no longer desired to have Sven's, nor saw him as anyone she really wanted to pursue... but a baby of her own remained as ever present an urge.

She just didn't want that desire of maternal fulfilment to be twisted; misconstrued as a fierce jealousy of Carina's motherhood that could transition into hatred when that wasn't -and never would be- the case. The fear of her believing that, however, caused her to tiredly lift her head to nip it in the bud before it could fester and bite her at a later date.

"I don't want you to think that... you know, I would ever... detest you for being a mother, Carina. I'm well aware how everyone gossips about me around here; I'm sure you've heard how much I would like to become a mother myself one day for it seems most people in this castle like to joke that it'll never happen for me. I suppose... after my lies a few months ago, they're entitled to joke at my expense; I, ah... deserve it. But please don't ever think I would hold resentment towards you for... having Lorcan. He's a darling little thing, and you're such a wonderful mother. My... desire for what you have wouldn't bubble into hatred, I can assure you of that."
 
With the conversation moving onto Lorcan, Carina reluctantly gave way to it and let it do so. She still felt that overriding guilt of causing Natalia to feel whatever it was that she felt, but with the adviser's tone suggesting there was no room for argument and even to just drop it, the young queen wasn't about to protest.

Her hand, with quill grasped within it, moved with a grace that screamed years of handwriting practice. The calligraphic scrawl helping to distract Carina for a moment and allowed her mind to just lose thought of everything but that, and of course Natalia's words. "I was thinking the same thing, you needn't worry. Besides, I'll welcome your opinion, Natalia, regardless of what it is or if I agree or not. That's what you're best at, isn't it. I may not agree with it all the time, but it'll still have me thinking twice." Carina assured the other woman, keeping her eyes on the sweeping movements of feather and fingers.

The writing stopped however, not long after, and Carina looked up with a deepening frown upon her features. "What an odd thing to say, Natalia," she answered, but her voice was soft, "I would never think you detested me for that reason. And yes, I have heard the gossip, by why would I pay any heed to it? You didn't when they were surely gossiping about me and my involvement in the attack on Sven. That's all it is, Natalia, needless and hurtful gossip." She twirled the quill between her two fingers for a moment, the frown slowly becoming a quiet smile.

"It will happen for you some day, Natalia. I know it. You'll have a child some day and they will grow up alongside ou-- alongside Lorcan and... Sven's other children. I can see it now, them all running around out in the gardens together."

However, the smile did fade and she glanced down at the paper, fidgeting for a moment before dipping the quill back into the ink to begin writing again. During the week leading to her possible death, Carina had done everything she possibly could to have as much time with Lorcan as there was left for her. Feeding, cuddling, burping. But now all she could feel was a hollowness that had carved its way into her chest since Sven cast his decision over her. Carina could no longer see herself as a wonderful mother, because what wonderful mother caused the breakup of their child's family? Just as she had failed Sven as a wife, she had already failed Lorcan as a mother. He was barely two weeks old.

"How-how many of these letters are there to write? I fear I'll be writing them in my sleep if I do too many in one day." She laughed off her brief quietness, "Please tell me we'll get a printers in the village to create the invites for the masquerade-- oh! Perhaps that's where you'll find your future lover to have a child with." She teased, smiling faintly.
 
The proposed future of their children playing with one another was one that brought a smile to her face... despite her confidence that such a future wouldn't come to fruition, at least not one that involved a child of her own. She had yearned for motherhood and despite persistent trying whenever Sven had taken her to bed with him, despite the various old wives' tales she followed to encourage the chance no matter how far-fetched they seemed, nothing had worked.

There had never been so much as a hint of it to offer her even a slither of hope, so predicting a future for herself where she got precisely what she had desired for a handful of years felt like a set-up for later heartbreak.

She couldn't -and wouldn't- delude herself into believing that a future like that could exist for her when all evidence seemed to suggest that it simply wasn't meant to be. A melancholic smile made its way onto her face the longer she remained focused on the image in her mind, however determined she was not to give it too much of her energy when, ultimately, it wasn't one she thought would ever become reality for her.

For Carina and Sven, undeniably; they might not have any other children together but they at least had Lorcan to watch over proudly. But for her? The chance seemed to be getting slimmer by the day. Even if her confidence in actually conceiving a child hadn't disappeared as much as it had, she would first need to have found love... and the idea of that alone seemed just as unlikely.

Though at least it didn't fill her with sadness. Rather, Carina's playful words on the matter caused Natalia to smirk to herself, the unlikelihood of it bringing humour to her expression.

"I don't think I'm the sort of woman who men fall in love with upon first sight, Carina. Even putting looks aside, I'm not the most friendly of people, am I? I'm aware enough to know that I'm not approachable. I'm stern, stern, tough... I find it difficult to let loose and even if some man miraculously enjoyed such traits, I'm sure I'd push the poor soul away when he realises how devoted I am to my work. I'm also sure most men want a fun-loving, free spirit who will dance and sing and... god knows what else. Not that I'm going to sit here and put myself down; I'm simply being realistic. You have to have that sense of awareness, it saves being so hurt when faced with inevitable disappointment," she quipped, her smile remaining in place from her first word to her last, such was the acceptance she spoke with.

She wasn't intending to spurn every approach from men, not when one of them could be the person she would fall in love with - she was just wise enough to know not to get her hopes up.

"...Anyway, it's not a very optimistic outlook to have but I've always said I'm more of a realist. It's why I recommend you take a break from writing before you strain your hand; I'm not sure I could match your handwriting, Carina. Best not to overdo it or the rest of the names on the list will be faced with my lesser calligraphy ability," she snorted once more as she finalised the seal on one more envelope before fully relaxing back into the armchair for a temporary break, choosing to fall quiet for a moment to fully absorb the peacefulness the library always seemed to boast.

"A masquerade ball is exciting though. Regardless of my negative ramblings, I am looking forward to it; to letting my hair down and having fun, albeit in my own way. Granted, mingling amongst the elite and the aristocratic is a tad... daunting. I'm not from that background; my mother's a dressmaker, my father a farmer. I've no ballroom training, but... I don't intend on dancing so I suppose that fear is irrelevant."
 
"Well, you're Ignisian, so that's a good start." Carina pointed out playfully, "Besides, you never know what gentleman from one of the other kingdoms might prefer a bit of... fire." She teased, relieved to be talking about something other than politics, Sven or Lorcan. It all weighed down heavily on her, and with each conversation that revolved around one of those three topics, it felt as though an extra pound was being added to the load already on her shoulders. So it was pleasant to have a conversation that was more personal, even girly. Carina didn't often have those sort of chats.

"Not every man is into that sort of person, you never know, you may find yourself surprised." She then shrugged, not daring to dip into the example that was her and Sven. It wasn't as if Sven ever got to see her 'fun-loving, free-spirited' side, considering they either hated each other or she was too pregnant to be too spirited with any sort of activity. "Perhaps there'll be someone at the ball who will attempt to seduce you over to his side, and get you to help him instead of me and Sven. Although, if you were to work in the same office, who is to say much work would get done?" She added coyly, grinning slightly.

Reluctantly, Carina looked down at the letter she had just finished and nodded, slowly placing the quill back within the ink pot for the time being. She sat back and closed her eyes, knowing otherwise they would wander to the space she and Sven used to sit together. After massaging her hand, she brought both of them together to entwine at the fingers and rest over her deflating bump.

She took in a deep, silent breath before releasing it in a sigh. The medication the doctor had given her had finally kicked in completely, and Carina gently rolled her shoulders back into the chair, enjoying the weightlessness that came when she closed her eyes. Everything else slipped her mind for a moment, and she could forget what duties she had, what pain she had caused and what love she had lost. There was no nagging, in the back of her mind, to remind her of what she needed to do or who she had to be aware of. Quite frankly, if it hadn't been for Natalia speaking up once again, Carina couldn't tell how long it would take until she opened her eyes again.

"I haven't been a host for a ball in quite some time. Nor... nor really been to one in ages either." Carina confessed, eyes drifting to the teapot as she debated pouring herself another before deciding against it. The need for the toilet was creeping up on her, and she didn't want to encourage it. "You never know, that special someone may just turn up and offer to teach you." She chuckled, head turning as the doors of the library groaned open.

The physician walked towards them, bowing deeply once close enough and straightening soon after. "I thought it best to come and advise both Your Majesty and Miss Natalia that the King has been escorted back to his room. His stitches have been reapplied and I have provided both a light sedative and a medium painkiller." He hesitated then, glancing to Carina, "I thought I may also attend to Your Highness next, to ensure your own... injury is unaffected."

"If you mean you would like to ensure I haven't disrupted the healing process unlike the King, then I can tell you easily enough, doctor, that all is well." Carina answered simply. However, the look on the physician's face and his reluctance to leave led to her sighing and standing. There was slight tingle up her leg with the sudden pressure, but nothing akin to the pain that she experienced in the morning without her own pain medication. Such information was told to the physician, who had Carina sit in an armchair nearby. He knelt before her and, checking for permission, pushed up her dress skirts slightly. Carina took hold of them to keep them out of the way but leaned back, arms outstretched to hold the gathered material but head and eyes turned away.

Luckily for her, as she wasn't sure if she would be able to look at the ghastly burns there and then, the physician merely checked the bandages were still in tact and no cream or blood had seeped through.

Happy with what he had seen, he leaned back and stood, taking a few steps away from the Queen to allow her to release her skirts and stand herself. "Has Your Majesty taken one of the painkillers yet?" He questioned, receiving a nod in response, "Just the one?" Another nod greeted him and he gave one in return, "Remember they are very potent, so do not take another until dinner this evening, Your Majesty. I will be back in your quarters this evening to change your bandages."

With a final glance to Natalia, inclining his head towards her and then bowing again to Carina, the physician left.

The young queen released a long breath and returned to the desk to sit once more with the adviser, "Well... at least we know Sven is... taken care of."
 
While Carina very rarely had the sort of girly chats she was now engaged in, Natalia could honestly claim not to remember any instance of holding such conversations before; not when she had never really had any real friends outside of Sven before. Personal chat with him had inevitably occurred, but when she had always been so utterly in love with him, there had never been instances where she could seek out advice on men she might have had her eye on when that fact had never been true for her.

It had always been Sven. Whilst some soldiers might have caused her eyes to wander now and then, she was almost entirely devoted to Sven - and even if his feelings had never been reciprocate (a fact she had cruelly come to terms with a few months prior), she would never consider engaging in a conversation about anyone other than him. How she felt about him, at the time, was all that mattered; all that consumed her entire being.

Discussing the possibility of being with another man was something she knew she wanted, to familiarise herself with the prospect of developing feelings for someone that wasn't Sven... but that didn't mean the conversation came too naturally to her when it was, perhaps, the first time she had ever engaged in something like it. Her feelings for Sven might have now dimmed, her openness for falling in love with someone who wasn't the King accepted... but none of it was easy.

Especially when she considered the likelihood too slim to accept as a possibility for her.

Yet, if only to keep an open mind and avoid the conversation growing too negative, she allowed herself to appear accepting of the chances the ball could present to her... particularly when it was clear Carina was enjoying the lighter atmosphere created by the tonal shift. And if she was honest with herself, so was Natalia, her own smile having grown at the playful, suggestive remarks - the realist in her scoffed at the idea of any man finding her Ignisian nature enjoyable, but the optimist that had for years been overshadowed and overlooked now dared to stir, an eager hope blooming in her chest before she could beat it back down.

And frankly, a part of her didn't want to. It wasn't much, but the fact she kept her mind open and allowed herself to take in the remarks without refuting them was evidence of the hope she found herself clinging to, for the sake of achieving a future where she wasn't... alone.

"If someone does offer to help me, then I might just accept - though I pity whatever poor soul tries to teach me anything. I'm certain I have two left feet; I'd only end up injuring him somehow," she retorted after a moment's consideration, unable to resist the idea of a little dance should the opportunity arise. Was she going to let loose and dance amongst the crowd of royals and aristocrats? Predictably, no... but she wouldn't turn down an offer from someone to sway to the music on the periphery of the action.

That idea, in fact, brought a little rosiness to her otherwise pale cheeks.

She fell silent upon the royal physician's entrance, seeing no need to distract him from examining -and possibly tending to- Carina's injury. Instead, she respectfully fell quiet and allowed her gaze to stray to the stacks of books the library possessed, making a mental note to enquire whether there was a better categorisation method - and if so, the shelves ought to be dusted before the new system was implemented.

Admittedly, she was only creating more work for herself when storing the books in a new system was unnecessary... but her work was everything to her. If she could make herself useful and make an impact (however minor that impact was), she was prepared to take on the extra workload. Hell, she would gladly go through every book in the library herself if nobody else desired the job.

She sipped at her tea as she allowed the thoughts to not only arise but settle in until she had firmly made up her mind to see them be put to action, a satisfied smile arising at the genuine eagerness she felt at the prospect of getting the library organised and in order. It might not be pleasurable to most, but it was to her.

"Hm? Oh, yes, that's wonderful news, of course. Let's just hope he remains in bed. I can't guarantee it, but I'll see the physician later on about that sleeping remedy. I'd have asked him now but the man's always busy; I doubt he'll have remembered," she smiled once bringing her attention back to the other, setting her now empty cup aside with a content sigh. "You ought to rest too. The less you pressure yourself, the less pain you will be in. Take the advice you gave to Sven; don't push yourself too hard. Or-- well, you won't be able to dance at the masquerade ball and it'd be a shame for you to miss out. I'm certain you dance beautifully, you hold yourself with so much grace-- I'm willing to bet that you're a marvellous dancer and I want to be proven correct at the ball. So take it easy, won't you?"
 
"I doubt I will be doing much dancing at that ball regardless, Natalia. It will be as much a business event laced with politics as it is there to be a pleasurable experience. I... suppose Sven and I will have an opening dance but... I think I will avoid the dancing as much as possible." Carina confessed, staring down at her hand as she rubbed her ink-stained finger and thumb together. In truth, while she agreed to the ball, she was filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. After Sven's words that reflected how disgusted he was at the idea of touching her (words he may not even remember, given his state), Carina wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be in any situation where she wanted to be close enough to see such disgust in his eyes.

Other royals and dignitaries may request dances throughout the night out of politeness or even, as she had learned at her last ball, to talk in relative private about sensitive matters; and Carina did love to dance. It had been one of the parts of a ball she loved the most, the food just missing out. She had loved learning about the latest dances prior to the event and then revelled in showing off her new, quick footwork in front of all those invited.

However, this one had the pressure of acting like a happily married couple to a man that despised her. Who questioned every little thing she did and seemingly no longer wanted her in his life.

Carina's eyes moved to the clock just slightly down the wall opposite her and was rather surprised by the lateness of the day. She hadn't expected all the drama of the morning to have slipped by already into early afternoon. She couldn't know for certain how many letters she had managed to write in that day alone, or how many there were still to go, and while she still felt slightly useless and inadequate in the fact that all she was doing was writing letters rather than some task of more importance... she couldn't help but think that at least it was one less menial task taken from Sven's plate.

"Perhaps... perhaps I will take your advice once again today," she smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes, "I think I will go and lay down in my room for a short while. Would you, ah, would you be able to organise a few things for me while I'm away? Find an... instructor of sorts to come in and refresh our memories of the old dances and teach us the new, and... find a time that best suits your mother to come in and fit us both for dresses. Even if Sven disagrees to the event, it is better to be prepared. She'll be paid handsomely, I promise."

Carina pushed herself to her feet, "We'll continue in an hour or two, and please do make sure we are-- there's much to do and I don't need... anyone thinking I am slacking." She reached out a hand to lay it on Natalia's shoulder as she passed by, squeezing it softly, "And get yourself some lunch, we didn't have that breakfast in the end with everything that happened, you need to eat as much as I do."
 
"...Of course, leave it to me. I'll work over my lunch hours - though I'll have something to eat too, don't worry," she reassured with a smile of her own, one that might have faltered if she hadn't worked so hard to keep it in place. She wasn't naive; the lack of smile within Carina's eyes wasn't an easy sight to witness, albeit a completely understandable one given all she had had to endure over the past week.

She was the Queen, and thereby expected to fulfil duties regardless of personal circumstances, but that didn't mean all the pain she had gone through, both physical and emotional, could be waived aside as she resumed her responsibilities. It was only inevitable that she would find her mind drifting to the difficulties she had faced (though that was putting it lightly).

And there was nothing Natalia could do or say that would erase such thoughts; not when the pain of them was as present as ever. Time was the greatest healer, at least she believed it to be, so the hurt continually provoked by contemplative thoughts would only dim as the weeks and months progressed.

Though that was with the assumption that Sven wouldn't do or say anything else to undercut his wife and when matters between them were as tense as they now were, it was rather a huge assumption to make. As a realist, Natalia couldn't see it happening... but all she could do was hope. Granted, it didn't fill her with much certainty to just hope against the face of likelihoods and facts - but it was really all she had when she personally couldn't influence anything.

Sven would do and say what he wanted, and if she tried to advise him otherwise, he would only accuse her of siding with Carina.

It was, unfortunately, all too sadly predictable.

"You're entitled to your rest, Carina. You've only recently given birth, don't forget; the strain of that alone is more than a reason for you to take a nap, catch up on sleep, relax yourself. Now go and do that; I'll get the ball rolling with preparations in the meantime," she concludingly smiled as she reached for the folders, easing back into the armchair with little desire to leave. The quiet of the library, the cosiness in spite of its grandeur, made for a perfect working environment - and anything had to be better than the study with the faint metallic smell of blood from Sven's open wounds and the smoke from his cigarettes undoubtedly still lingering in the air.

"Go on, get yourself to your room. If you insist on returning to work, I'll come and collect you in two hours, but until then, go and rest. I'm perfectly alright continuing on by myself for now."
 
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