Playing with Fire

Andrew only lowered himself back into the chair once the door had closed behind the queen, certain that she wouldn't make a sudden reappearance and catch him by surprise. He once more straightened his waistcoat, glancing down at the garment as Carina's words about 'suitable clothing' repeated themselves over in his mind. He supposed the dark brown wasn't too proper in a place like this. He had always wondered what royals wore to dinner, if they paved the way for nobility to dress so fancy in their own homes at their own dinner tables.

He blinked up at Natalia as the adviser began to speak again, fingers slowly releasing the pinching grip they had on the hem of the waistcoat and his hands reaching for his cup again. He didn't dare pick any of the sweets, one for the fear of creating crumbs and two for the fear he would become too full and not eat anything at dinner, therefore seeming rude and inconsiderate.

"The East Wing... sounds fancy-- far too fancy for the likes of me." He replied, taking a sip of his tea (one sugar and a drop of milk). "Am I... smelly or somethin'? I just mean, the queen mentioned a bath - which, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for an' would love to have before dinner tonight - but the way she only stayed in the room for a matter of a few minutes... it ain't 'cause I... stink, issit? I did bathe on my way up, kept this," he motioned to his outfit, "bundled up safe, didn't wear it once so it didn't smell bad when I finally put it on."

He cheeks had reddened with the embarrassment of such a prospect, having tried so hard to make sure his cleanliness was paramount, even going as far as to take one of the unused bars of lavender soaps his mother hadn't had a chance to use before she passed.

He was then caught off guard by her referral back to his earlier confident, cup pausing in the air before continuing up to his lips to have another drink.

"She's a talented woman. I bet my Ma would have asked her a think or two about some of the techniques she used on that dress." Andrew commented after clearing his mind, watching Natalia curiously. It was a far cry from the woman who was blatantly attempting to shut him out earlier, the faint smiles and offers of conversation not exactly something that had been on the agenda ten minutes ago.

However, he smiled easily, undeterred by her warnings about the King, "Ain't that what a good marriage is like though? I mean, I ain't married an' not exactly in a relationship, but I always though that's what they're all about, ain't they? Balancin' each other out, complimentin' each other?" He shrugged nonchalantly.
 
"Do you-- Oh goodness, no. I'm confident the Queen didn't intend to offend you - especially when your thoughts are entirely unfounded because you... smell rather nice, in fact," she responded, biting the inside of her cheek once more when she realised that the compliment, although entirely true in its content, didn't necessarily help her to promote the image of toughness she was keen on sticking to. It wasn't a falsified version of her personality -she could be incredibly tough and unrelenting- but she was more determined than ever to maintain it; ensure it didn't waver in Andrew's presence until she had been convinced of his genuineness.

Evidently, such dedication to that presentation had faded somewhat, if not spectacularly, when she began to reciprocate the playfulness, all leading to a few smiles and even a compliment or two. As deserving as she felt Andrew was of those, she didn't have anything to justify such an assumption yet.

Which left her cursing herself for her softness; for exposing that side of her so soon on with little to explain doing so. She wasn't comfortable switching immediately back to the toughened state when it would only confuse and perhaps even upset the stranger more... but she at least made an effort to sit straight, her body language closing off in refusal to divulge any personal information about herself.

"I'm sure she only suggested a bath to relax you; unwind your bones after days of travelling and, I imagine, not very comfortable sleep. A bath, I find, works miracles in easing my aching muscles after a long day's work, so... I assure you it was a suggestion made in kindness, not a subtle jab at you. One can hope, at least," she continued after a moment of silence, setting her empty cup aside and gently dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a nearby handkerchief before rising to her feet. A last glance was sent in the way of the gardens, Natalia having to force back the smile that threatened to rise at the thought of possibly spending a little time out amongst the flowers in the coming days.

Only when she was able to bring herself to glance away did she head for the door with the briefest of nods towards Andrew to indicate he should follow close behind her. A minute passed in silence, with the only sound echoing the halls being the sound of footsteps against the smooth stone flooring beneath them - though words were exchanged upon crossing paths with a butler, instructing him to fetch clothes for Andrew: a set suitable for dinner that evening, and a clean pair of pyjamas for later that night.

It was a little further venturing through the castle before arriving at the bedroom that would have been prepared for Andrew had he not arrived as early as he had. Nevertheless, despite the lack of some small finishing touches fit for a guest, the room, like most bedrooms within the castle, was extravagant, maintaining traditional stone features but complimented with the features of the new Ignis; its royal purple colour scheme in contrast to the dominating crimsons that had reigned before it.

Rather than appearing intimidating as bedrooms back in the old King's day had been, with features intense and symbolising the brutishness of the land back then, the decorating that had gone on during the overhaul of such philosophies had emphasised softer, more regal notes: not overly flashy but distinctly majestic all the same.

"...I'm sure you'll be very comfortable here, Mister Fernsby. The bathroom is through that door over there - I can ask the butler that will bring along your new clothes whether he can run a bath for you, if you'd like to spare yourself the trouble? You may not feel... comfortable passing on duties to the staff here, but you have that right. Ignis has changed. Illegitimate or not, you are the son of a King and you are deserving of the respect such a position holds. So if there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to call for me."
 
"Oh uh, no, no thank you. That'd be... no thanks." Andrew was quick to turn down the offer of a butler running a bath for him, his eyes widening slightly at the mere prospect. "I can, ah, I can definitely run my own bath. I-I think I'll be alright, thank you, Miss Bauer." He smiled warmly, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before darting off to the room again.

It was truly unlike any place he had stayed before, or had lived in. A culture shock, that was for sure. The idea of someone being there to heed his every beck and call was... laughable. The room alone seemed big enough to house the other two stablehands, the coach driver and even one of the horses or two without any of them touching each other. He chuckled at the thought conjured, rubbing the back of his neck in bewilderment at his luck. Even with the change in attitudes within Ignis, he had expected to get an audience with the King and Queen, maybe a cup of tea, and then sent on his way...

"I never thought you'd all... put me up like this." He confessed his next thought out loud, turning back to face the adviser. He then paused, eyes refusing to be taken from her figure as his smile became a half-grin, head cocking playfully to the side, "Don't hesitate to call you, eh? Well... I may just have to take you up on that, Miss Bauer."

After a moment of just taking the adviser in, Andrew motioned towards the bathroom door, "Well I'll, uh... I'll just go get myself cleaned up. I ain't goin' to be the one to keep them waitin' for dinner. Could... uh, could the butler just leave the clothes on the bed or somethin'? So'long as it ain't anythin' too confusing, I'm sure I can get myself dressed." He assured her, hands fidgeting before he simply stuffed them into his trouser pockets to still them from their anxious movements. "Thank you... Miss Bauer, for helpin' me out here, an' for your advice. I'll be sure to keep it in mind this evenin'-- about the King?"

Andrew's expression pulled upwards into a sincere smile, the warmth of it reaching his eyes before he reluctantly turned to leave Natalia be and enter the bathroom. He could have easily have stayed there for longer, just talking to her and exchanging playful banter. He had noticed how she had started responding to him, providing some quips and retorts in return, and he wanted to continue to work on finding out who she was underneath that cold front which was now, clearly to him, an exterior she wore like armour. However, he also knew he couldn't keep the royals waiting, so had to begin getting ready.

Even if he felt like a fool for leaving her, especially when he didn't even ask if she would also be at the table that evening.
 
"You have no need to thank me, I'm simply following what is asked of me; fulfilling my responsibilities," the advisor responded with a slight curtsey, even though she neglected to leave the room until Andrew had retreated to the bathroom. Only then did she run a hand over her face as if that would somehow erase the blush that had gradually started to spread, like wildfire, across her cheeks - though the more her mind thought back to the look in his eyes as he peered across at her, the half-grin on his face, the more the blush grew in its intensity.

She may have been oblivious to the interest in her upon his initial arrival, but even she couldn't remain unaware as the playful remarks shared between them contained a flirtatious energy she had recognised immediately... and reciprocated, despite feeling she ought to keep a distance.

It wasn't the easiest position to be in, feeling her head was leading her in one direction and her heart another: she wanted to focus on her work and pay the flirtation no mind, particularly when it was all part of an elaborate plot to potentially win her trust and use that to gain sensitive information on the royals. On the other hand, she enjoyed conversing with him for all the plethora of reasons she had earlier acknowledged.

It might not be a priority, and she didn't imagine it ever transitioning into something more serious, but she didn't think having a little fun amongst the countless hours of work she put into helping the King and Queen was too regrettable. Andrew seemed like a nice man and though she wasn't the sort to welcome just anyone into her life and through the walls she held up, what was stopping them continuing to enjoy a playful comment here and there until he left for his hometown once more?

While he was here, Natalia knew she didn't have the cruelty to push him -and his agreeable advances- back after actively encouraging their continuation. On the contrary, there wasn't anything she felt more excited about than perhaps getting to know him a little more - especially when she could justify such conversations as her doing her due diligence and establishing if he was a threat to them or not.

But first, before any of those hopes could materialise, Natalia knew she had to inform the King of the newcomer's arrival... however difficult such a conversation was bound to be. Predictably, it went as she had anticipated, the advisor remaining calm even despite Sven's growing anger playing out in front of her. She was careful not to say anything that would contribute to it; not when it was paramount he didn't abruptly tear the stitches put in place just a few hours previous.

Inevitably, anger was the overarching emotion - anger primarily at the two women for not alerting him to the man's arrival. Even when Natalia attempted to justify the decision as necessary to ensure he had some hours to rest after that morning's ordeal, he dismissively reasoned that the words were excuses; that he ought to have been told regardless of his health. And then came the equally inevitable panic. He did his best to hide it as he (with a butler's help) changed into his clothes for the evening, though beneath the steely expression was a nervousness that swarmed deep within his eyes.

He had been provided the evidence and had time to peruse it, coming to the same conclusion as Carina had that this man was, indeed, his half-brother, though that still left a question mark over his intentions for arriving. As such, Sven wasn't prepared to open his arms and welcome his brother into his life without gauging who he was as a person over dinner, and while he was determined to fulfil that task, just the thought of being in the presence of a family member he had never known was... terrifying.

However often Natalia reassured him that his nerves were justified, that this was a big moment and he ought to feel no shame in the anxiety riddling through him, he didn't want to let it show too much, not if Andrew was here to take him down. He especially didn't want Carina to see him that anxious either - as much as he still loved her, he wasn't comfortable in expressing the more vulnerable emotions to her when he didn't trust her not to ridicule him for it.

And so, with a renewed steeliness to his gaze in place, the King finally made his way to the grand dining hall. He walked with obvious difficulty, almost hunched to protect the stitches from too much pressure, but, with every fibre of strength he had in him, he stood up straight and strode to his chair as smoothly as he could. The pain was intense, the burning throb in his side making him feel sick, but it was worth enduring every second of it if it presented the impression of a man in control; strong and invulnerable.

He didn't hesitate to take his seat - both because he knew he was already a little late and because the desire to ease himself of the pain was too intense to push aside a moment longer. He nodded gratefully as the wine, in his presence, was now brought to the table, waiting for his glass to be filled for him before raising it to his lips. Finally, his eyes shot across to Andrew in examination of his appearance, the family resemblance needing no longer than two seconds to be recognised.

Ignisis and red hair went hand-in-hand, after all.

"So... this is rather fun, isn't it? My father's illegitimate child randomly appearing on the scene after all these years. I'm sure I'll be getting countless more visits from other half-siblings, our dear father wasn't very dedicated to his marital vows," he began, his tone suggesting playfulness but his expression contrasting it entirely; his smile refused to raise, the icy blue of his eyes remaining sharp and narrowed in on Andrew unrelentingly.

"Why are you here? You've heard about the attack on my life, I assume? And then you arrive, out of the blue, shortly after the news broke? Why?"
 
Carina and Andrew had been waiting for about 15 minutes by the time Sven made an appearance, but she had been sure to keep conversation flowing between them, asking him about his life back home and his line of work. A warm, soft expression lingered on her features, but inside she was growing increasingly worried about Sven's delay. A year ago, she would have been annoyed at him keeping them waiting, but now she loved him, and cared about him, and had seen the depths of his injuries.

They had yet to be served their meal, but drinks had at least been poured. A glass of red wine sat in front of the young man, while Carina settled for water, having made the decision to not drink while seeing through the last of her pain medication and while she was still Lorcan's main source of food and nourishment. Besides, after the events of the night before, from which her own wound throbbed at the mere thought, she wasn't overly keen to indulge.

She had chosen her usual seat, at Sven's left while Andrew had taken the right out of politeness. He had cleaned up well, Carina observed, with the dust and grime from his travels removed from his skin and his hair properly washed and combed. The clothes provided were well-pressed and smart, adding to her imagination of what Andrew would look like if he truly did become a more integrated member of the royal family.

When Sven entered, both immediately stood, Carina's expression unwavering despite the ache to her leg. Her eyes lingered on her husband, a brief glimmer of anxiety within them despite the strong façade he presented - one that was clearly working on Andrew, who had cleared his throat and averted his gaze out of respect.

However, she was sure to hide such emotion when he didn't look at her, acknowledge her or greet her in a way a loving husband would with a wife he had spent the majority of the day from. That irked her. He wanted an act, yet he wasn't offering any help in playing up to it.

Regardless of that, Carina had ensured such irritation didn't show and sat once the king had done, Andrew following suit. Her eyes darted between the two men as she removed the napkin from her plate to unfurl and place over her lap, displeased at the tense silence that had formed over the table as Sven took his time observing his supposed kin. Andrew, as a result, shifted slightly in his seat as the King's intense stare burned into his skin. His eyes, a dark brown after his mother, settled on Sven before moving away again, the action being repeated a handful of times before the monarch finally spoke.

Discomfort was a tight knot at the base of his spine, and Andrew was at a loss on what to say. The playful tone did not match the expression that bore down on him, nor the words that were spoken, and thus the stablehand was unsure how to respond. His lips parting and then closing again in quick succession as he floundered.

Carina was made further irate by the blunt mention of the attack. She hadn't appreciated Natalia speaking so openly about it earlier either, despite Andrew's hinting at it. However she hadn't made a fuss. But this was the second time, and she had made it perfectly clear that she wanted to exude an air of disregard and even amusement that such an attack had been carried out. That they were much too strong and stable to worry about such an event, that the king was unscathed and thought nothing of it.

Despite this, out of a want for Sven to compose himself, Carina automatically reached out underneath the table to rest a hand on his knee. Until she realised what she had done, and remembered his words, and jerked her hand back, as if scolded once again.

Andrew looked between the two sovereigns, hesitating for a moment after Carina's abrupt arm movement and her reaching for her drink to take a sip of water, her eyes elsewhere.

"...I... understand that it looks suspicious, Your Majesty." He began, the nerves evident in his voice, "But I-- I really didn't plan for it to be this way. My, uh, my Ma passed about a week ago an' that's when she told me, just before she, ah, before she went." He explained, hand and forearm resting on the table, outstretched towards his glass of wine, forefinger and thumb rubbing together anxiously, "T-To be honest, I sent the letter before the, uh, the attack. Just a day. I thought it'd get to you sooner. If-if you just check the date..." His voice grew quieter and trailed off, not wanting to sound as though he was telling the royals what to do but wanting to prove his innocence.

"S'just unfortunate that it... it reached ya... after, y'know? I just... I don't want nothin', I just wanted the chance to... meet ya. 'Specially since we're the only family we... got now, yeah?"
 
The tension that had settled over the table might have been the result of his unjustly intense line of questioning, the accusation lingering within them unsubtle and unhidden, but the King didn't feel an ounce of guilt from such an approach. He had learnt to break a habit of refusing to accommodate those he didn't know; in the past, he would have disregarded anyone who he didn't have familiarity with, someone who he knew and therefore trusted, but his dedicated to a new future for Ignis had changed that.

He ventured to the crowd gathered in the town square each week, developed a rapport with strangers; given them the time to speak and respecting their right to do so. He had adjusted the way he had previously thought, altered that mindset that had dominated him for much of his adolescence an young adulthood, and felt all the better for it. He didn't have to immediately trust everyone he came into contact, but he at least went into such discussions without immediately deeming them a threat to him, without judging them and thereby ruining the impression of them before it had a chance to properly present itself to him.

Evidently, such philosophies that had worked so well for him over the last few weeks with his people, had been abandoned in favour of the immediate distrust, waiting for Andrew to do the work in convincing him of his sincerity. Although, after all he had been through, where close friends had betrayed him in such brutal ways, he couldn't feel guilty for making Andrew squirm uncomfortably.

He felt justified in the course of action he was taking - he couldn't just trust someone whose timing of his arrival, unfortunately, seemed to calculated to be coincidental.

The intensity he was determined to uphold wavered the moment he felt Carina's hand on his knee. Though it quickly jolted away, the repercussions of the abrupt, sudden moment of affection caused the forcefulness of his expression to fall, replaced with mild confusion. His lips parted as though to speak, his eyebrows knitting together, though Andrew seemed to have finally found his own words before Sven's own could leave.

Thankfully, because the young King had been incredibly close to offering his wife a smile - and ultimately, though the slightest of touches to his knee was enough to consolidate the love he still felt for her, he doubted either of them needed to focus on the complications of their marriage at the moment. Not in front of a man who Sven still wasn't certain he could trust to keep what he saw and heard to himself.

"...Yes, well, you may be alone, but I have my wife and my son. You aren't the only family I have, I won't feel guilted into believing you if that is what that statement was intending to do," he muttered, the sharpness of the comment not necessarily provoked by irritation of the stranger. In fact, Andrew was merely the unfortunate target of the cloud of confusing thoughts that had descended onto Sven, who struggled to fight the conflicting emotions from his mind - and thus snapped at someone undeserving of the behaviour in an effort to cope with them.

He recognised the cutting tone the moment it left his lips, a sigh escaping him in discomfort with himself.

"I apologise, that was unnecessary. You're right, of course. If you are my... my brother, then you're family and I would like to get to know you further, Andrew. It's still a little... strange, I'm sure you'll admit that too, but... yes, I'd have done the same thing if I were in your position. I'd have wanted to seek out the only family I had left, so forgive my, ah... rudeness. You don't deserve that," he eventually nodded, a faint smile offered across in reassurance as he returned momentarily to his wine, allowing the strength of the alcohol to at least absolve him of some minor nerves that still resided within him.

"...You can call me Sven, if you'd like. I don't expect you to greet me so formally in these private interactions, not if you are family. If we're to build up a connection, we should drop the formality when we're alone like this. It won't be helpful."
 
Andrew, in the typical Ignisian fashion, was prone to his emotions being openly known, with his heart on a sleeve and, unlike the royals before him, not trained in the art of façades. Concern swelled within Carina as she watched hurt flash across Andrew's expression. That moment only consolidated it further for Carina, that the man sat across the table from her was not there for anything untoward or harmful. He truly was only on a visit to find a sibling that he felt was his last family connection.

Her gaze flickered to Sven as Andrew's gaze dropped, his fingers tentatively wrapping around the stem of his glass but not picking it up.

The reaction shown from the half-blooded prince had allowed Carina something else to focus on, rather than getting caught up in the pain that Sven's words had caused her. He spoke so strongly of having her and Lorcan as his family, and it was hard to remember that that was no longer the case. He didn't have her, at least. Not just because of what he had done to her, but because of what she had done and thus the terms he had settled on in order to push her away due to her lies.

However, before she could open her mouth to tentatively break the silence that threatened to strangle at least her, she paused as Sven went on to speak again. She took another sip of her water, her other hand now resting her lap with her thumb anxiously rubbing and stroking against the top of her thigh.

"No... no apologies necessary, Your Majesty. If I've said somethin' to offend you, albeit accidentally, then it should be me apologisin'." Andrew answered, head still turned to face Sven but his eyes on the silver forks to the left of his own plate. "I, uh, I didn't mean to suggest... that His Majesty had no family, but rather that... we'd both be without parents now. Without blood. I might only be half-blood related but..." He trailed off awkwardly, finally lifting the wine glass to his lips to take a sip of the liquid within.

It was a lot more potent then the kind he had ever had before. Typically he settled for ale at the taverns, and that always tasted as though it was slightly watered down.

"Of course," Carina spoke gently, trying to help diffuse matters further and offered Andrew a small but soft smile as he dared to look at her, "You needn't worry, Mister Fernsby. We all have a right to be with our family, long-lost or not."

Andrew smiled back weakly, fingers stroking the stem of his glass before his eyes turned back onto Sven. He swallowed hard, hesitant to reply in case it earned him another sharp snap, "I-- I don't have'ta, Your Majesty. Like I said to Miss Bauer, I don't want to make anyone 'ere uncomfortable so you... you don't need to lay our any special treatment for me. I-I'm happy to call you by your title, s'what I've been doing all my life anyway... think it'd be odd to not now."
 
"I'm sorry - Miss Bauer? I don't follow you. I apologise but I don't quite know who that is." Sven replied, his eyebrows knitting together once more as he glanced in his brother's direction in the effort to conclude whether this was genuinely a member of staff's name (in which case, why they felt it appropriate to go by such a formal title bewildered him) or if Andrew was joking.

Hell, the consideration that this was a test of how connected the King was to his staff also crossed his mind. He liked to think he knew every member who dedicated themselves to not just serving his family but ensuring the smooth running of proceedings within the castle. Their hard work was never unnoticed and the least he felt he could do for them, aside from good pay and additional benefits, was know their name; make them aware that their presence wasn't overlooked.

He had thought he had done a good job of that throughout the years, even when he was a young child, but this name now stumped him, causing him to almost painedly scour through the recesses of his mind for the face that fit it.

And then came the realisation, a smirk arriving on his face before he could stop it, breaking the steeliness he had walked into the dinner with instantaneously. He couldn't exactly hold it back when imagining just how proud Natalia had probably been at someone affording and honouring her with the formal approach, even if his break of intensity served to humanise him.

"You mean Natalia? Did she insist you call her that? Nobody refers to her as 'Miss Bauer'. If she requested it, I imagine it's only because she likes to have her authority recognised around here. As she should, she's invaluable to my wife and I, but-- I've known her years, it's rather funny to me to know that she's off in the castle somewhere, gloating to herself," he explained, albeit with a break here and there to collect himself, the urge to laugh and chuckle over his friend's choice being unsubtle.

He didn't remotely care how she preferred to be addressed - but he also knew how smug Natalia would be about it; how she would inevitably walk with her head a little higher and a renewed sense of duty over something so simple as her high position in the castle being consolidated by a formal title.

And he found that amusing, if only for how sweet it was.

"You can continue to refer to her as she pleases, I respect her enough to allow her to make that choice - but you may call me Sven, I have no issue with that, I assure you. You are... quite obviously my brother. I don't think I would have needed the letters to prove it; the hair alone is a giveaway," he continued, albeit with an additional effort being made to lessen the tension he had created. He didn't necessarily trust Andrew completely just yet, but he didn't need to spend hours in his company to see that he was a decent person who deserved to enjoy his meal without the company disrupting it.

Or more specifically, Sven disrupting it, with the King quietly acknowledging just how quick his wife had been to move in and soften the tension. He didn't want to overthink the action, but it was hard not to when he considered just how much more time she had spent in Andrew's company than him; how she had perhaps gotten along with him far better than he would assume.

"...Natalia tells me you enjoyed afternoon tea in the sun parlour with the Queen earlier today? I'm sure you both had a nice time getting to know one another? I apologise for not being there, it seems a shame to have missed out on it."
 
"Quite honestly, Mister Fernsby spent more time having afternoon tea with Natalia than myself. I have to confess I haven't been much of a present host. Lorcan needing feeding not long after we settled for tea, so unfortunately I couldn't stay for too long," Carina interjected, leaning back into her chair as the first course was brought out and served, silver tops being lifted from the plates, "So really I ought to be apologising, for being a neglectful host, Mister Fernsby."

Andrew gratefully allowed the queen to speak, feeling as though he would still be walking on eggshells despite the king's quick correction to his behaviour. Natalia's words rang through his mind, be patient, she had said.

"Ah, no apologies necessary, Your Majesty." Andrew replied, resting his wrists against the edge of the table as he stared down at the food and the different sets of cutlery that awaited him. He raised his eyes, but didn't move his head, to embarrassed to make it obvious that he had no idea what to do or which to use. However, he found Carina peering at him and she smiled quietly, finally moving to pick up the correct set clearly for him to see. A small smile of his own was sent in return, and Andrew finally began on his food.

After a moment, Andrew focused back on the king's question and lifted his head to focus on Sven, "Like I said, I didn't want to make anyone 'ere feel uncomfortable. I'm sure my presence was doin' that enough. Miss Bauer... seemed like she wasn't sure about me usin' her first name, an' I just wanted her to be comfortable in her... own home an' place of work. So I... I just called her by what she seemed comfortable with me usin'."

He stopped for a drink, continuing afterwards, "And, uh, yes... tea was lovely. I gotta say, the, uh... the garden was somethin' else. My employers have somethin' like that but not to the standard you 'ave 'ere." He smiled slightly, hoping flattery (while truthful flattery) would help ease things further.

"We could, uh, we could still organise some time together, Your Maj-- Sven, if that's what you'd like? I had hoped to... get to know my brother a bit before headin' back." Andrew then offered before hastily adding: "Only if you 'ave time, f'course. I-I understand you're both real busy so... so wouldn't wanna take up any of your time."

Carina then took the moment to add some context, reaching out to lightly brush her fingertips against the back of Sven's wrist to gain his attention, "I've sent a letter to Mister Fernsby place of employment, telling them he's on a week trial with us for a potential job. He wanted to keep things secret, but didn't want to establish any bad blood with them. He intends to... return, at the end of the week."
 
The question had been out of genuine curiosity (as well as to try and establish a conversation that helped him to ease the nerves in him even further) but it was also intending to diagnose just how well the two had gotten along. Ultimately, under other circumstances, the idea of his wife and this newfound brother getting on well and forming a connection would be ideal, furthering and cementing the familial bond that Sven had once taken great pride in possessing.

Now, with his marriage laying in ruins through a combination of both of their faults and that familial bond crumbling along with it, Sven couldn't pretend that the thought of Carina getting along so well with his brother filled him with any joy. Stirrings of jealousy arose; the paranoia that often riddled through him starting to awake once more, that taunting voice urging him to believe in the possibility that his wife, the woman he still loved in spite of it all, had turned her attention elsewhere.

To a man that closely resembled him but whose differences might be more... appealing to her. He was broad and strong from a lifetime of hard, manual labour, whereas Sven, though tough from training he had undergone with soldiers in preparation for wars (under his father's rule, such a fear was omnipresent), was slender; lithe. His features were sharper, his beauty exaggerated as a result, whereas Andrew's seemed softer, kinder.

It didn't seem too irrational to believe that she would rather fall into the strong, toned arms of a kind, gentle man than Sven's, given all he had done to hurt her.

Physically and emotionally.

"...Of course. If you're leaving by the end of the week, we must spend time together before then. It'd be a shame to part without getting to know my own... brother," he replied with another nod, despite the strangeness of saying the word aloud once more. It felt weird coming from his mouth, though the fondness it brought along with it couldn't be ignored.

He just desperately wanted that fondness to grow as he got to know the other, rather than be dashed every time a paranoid thought hit him. He wanted to believe it was nonsense, that he was overanalysing, but fighting off something as strong as his paranoia... even if he wanted to find comfort in the light touch on his wrist from Carina, who he found himself appreciatively smiling at. Even if it was just for appearances' sake, he found the contact relaxed him, possibly because it had been so long without anything remotely positive occurring between them.

As sad as it was, that touch to his wrist was the most intimacy he had received from her for a week now... and there was a chance that it was merely to appear the doting wife as he had requested from her.

"We'll spend some time together tomorrow if you'd like? I can't guarantee it'll be any fun, but... we could take a carriage around the kingdom, spend time getting to know one another whilst you sightsee the kingdom-- I suppose it's as much your kingdom as mine, in fact. You are my father's son, so... you're entitled to hold the title of Prince. But we can discuss that in time, no need to overwhelm you."
 
The sad thing for Carina was that the small acts of affection or the soft touches of supposed love were all to easy to replicate. She was all too aware of the love that continued, albeit weakly, to flicker away deep under the layers of hurt and pain that their new-found animosity had created. The little gestures shown towards Sven at the table would have been acts she would have carried out without thought if they had been on good terms, natural, as it would be for a wife who loved her husband as she truly did. Regardless of how much she wished she could banish the emotion.

His smile to her only made things worse, briefly trapping her into believing that things were actually... as they were before the attack. It made her switch off for a second or two, her fingers lingering against his wrist and eyes on his face, until he started speaking again and she was jolted back to reality.

A new wave of sadness rushed over her and Carina was quick to avert her gaze and bow her head slightly, hand pulling away to clasp her cutlery again.

Andrew, however, smiled at his brother, perking up slightly at the change in direction the conversation had taken. After the coldness in which Sven entered the room, he didn't hold much hope the evening going well, let alone the rest of his time at the palace. But it seemed as though the King had calmed somewhat, and seemed, perhaps even if only slightly, more open-minded to give their fledgling sibling relationship a chance.

"That... would be lovely. I-- I ain't sure about the, uh, the title. S'all a bit overwhelmin', like you say," he agreed honestly after finishing his mouthful of food and his smile turning a little sheepish, "An' I definitely ain't here to take the kingdom, if that's what you're worried about. I can barely look after myself, let alone millions of other people." He chuckled, unrealising that he was so close to the truth of why reactions had been so mixed upon his arrival, "B-but yea', yeah... that sounds good, Your-- Sven. I'd like that, a lot."

He then paused peering to Carina who had kept her eyes lowered on her food while the two men spoke, before returning to Sven, "S'long as you're sure you... have time to spare? Obviously I ain't aware of what things you got goin' on, but if you've got... meetin's, plans, work... then I don't wanna get in the way of that." He continued to check, too anxious to not do so continuously.

"You two enjoy the day tomorrow, I can always deal with anything that can't wait." Carina finally spoke up, smiling to the two as she placed her cutlery on the almost empty plate ready to be collected, "I think it will do you both some good. You needn't worry about anything here."
 
Andrew's insistence that he wasn't in the kingdom to take the crown, that his intentions for appearing had purely been to encourage a connection with his only remaining family, did catch Sven by surprise. He hadn't expected the matter to be approached so openly, the bluntness of it causing the urge to laugh arise once again.

It was obvious that Andrew wasn't raised in the same environment that Sven had been, with everyone from his confusion over the appropriate cutlery to use to the manner in which he spoke serving as evidence. Had his father been alive, he would be outraged that someone sat at the royal dining table, of royal blood, behaved in such a way, as though knowledge of what to say and how to say those things was innate.

As though Andrew should automatically act like a Prince brought up in the royal castle of Ignis.

Fortunately for the man, Sven held no absurd expectations of him. He could hardly judge the other for his lack of knowledge or sneer superiorly at his grammatical tendencies when that was the norm for much of the population; it was Sven, Carina and the few born into such privileged positions who were the exceptions.

Although even then, his father had always been a hypocrite - he would demand Sven sit with his back straight and use the appropriate cutlery, act like the perfect Prince, while he slovenly lounged in his throne, debauchedly unashamedly feasted with lovers on his lap. The thought of how he would only criticise Andrew despite being capable of far more severe 'improper' conduct made the current King roll his eyes to himself, never being more thankful that the man was dead than he did now.

"I'm not worried about that, Andrew. If I were truly concerned that you were here to take the kingdom, I wouldn't have you sat at my dinner table, speaking with my wife and I so informally. I trust that your word is genuine," he reassured as he carefully dabbed the napkin to his mouth before setting aside his empty plate with a content smile. He wasn't lying about believing Andrew (he doubted the man could hurt a fly) but he had held doubts over his genuineness, that of which had only been resolved a mere few minutes prior.

But he wouldn't let the other know that; there was no reason to bring the mood down by admitting that he had thought so ill of him when the energy was finally on the up.

Granted, he didn't appreciate the glances across to Carina when they only reinforced the paranoia lurking in him but he desperately tried to overlook it, rather than dwell on something he tried to convince himself was purely innocent.

"Carina's well-equipped to handle business in my absence. Natalia will, no doubt, be at her side; the two are as thick as thieves as of late," he smiled as he reached for his wine, unable to help himself shooting Carina a glance. The words seemed innocent enough but the undercurrent of hurt was obvious - he couldn't be fond of their burgeoning friendship when it simultaneously left him feeling more alone than ever.

"So you and I are free to spend the day getting to know one another, Andrew. You aren't going to disrupt anything, please don't torment yourself by thinking you're a nuisance. We'll have a day together, arrive back before dinner, and end the night in the library with a drink and a cigar, assuming you smoke. We could sit by the fireplace--" He paused at the word, his eyes suddenly ignited with realisation.

"Sorry to abruptly change the subject, but do you-- have you inherited powers from our father as I have? As our ancestors had? It... really won't affect our ability to bond, I'm simply curious, I suppose."
 
Carina would have to have been blind to miss the look that Sven sent her, and it took all her energy to not react negatively towards in. Her smile didn't flicker, not once, despite the hurt and annoyance his words caused. While she could understand his fear of being left friendless and alone, she was incapable of figuring out why it seemed to be fine for her to be friendless and alone. Without Natalia's offer of new starts, she would have no one, and that thought terrified her, which is why she could relate to Sven's anxieties. She just couldn't see how he could think Natalia would ever leave him, when she had been devoted to him from the start (except for the matter of deception).

She busied herself with a sip of water, turning her eyes away from the two men and down the table to nothing in particular, just away from the pointed gazes of her husband.

Andrew leaned back as his plate was taken away from him, having fumbled to put his cutlery down after dropping the fork just prior to finishing his meal, the tips of his ears burning hot in mortification. He knew his life would have been different if he had been raised in the palace, and that it would have been the only life he knew if it was... but he simply couldn't grasp the concept of how people lived the way the royals in his presence did.

"That sounds... that sounds lovely, I'd be, well, I'd be honoured." He quickly jumped at the chance to move pass his previous faux pas with the first set of cutlery by continuing the conversation, taking two sips of his wine to help steady his nerves. "I uh, yeah I smoke. Not that I could very of'fen, my Ma, she weren't a fan of the smell. But never... cigars. Got'ta admit, they were only when the Viscount had a good day at the races with a mount I'd suggested."

He chuckled at the memories of such a comment, the Viscount Loughty coming down singing and drunk to the stables where he, the coach driver and the other live-in stablehand would be sat playing a game of cards after the usual chores were done. Boasting of how the steed Andrew had suggested he purchased had won the race he was put forward for. He'd open the small box he'd bring down with him to reveal four cigars and actually join in the game of cards well into the night.

Clearing his throat, he was brought out of his memories by the King's abrupt cut off and change of topic. Immediately his cheeks warmed and his hands lowered into his lap.

"Ah... well... I... I believe I did. I ain't seen much in the way of flames in my later years but... but when I was a kid..." He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as he met Sven's gaze nervously, "Ma would always dunk my hands into a pot of water, always there was one there ready, in the corner of the room. Refreshed every week. Told me to push it down, ignore it, fight it... s'why I try not to... s'why I try to focus on the brighter side of life, 'cause the bad things... they tend to set it off. I don't feel it as much anymore, but when I was younger... it was hard."
 
If he was completely honest with himself, Sven didn't entirely know what he wanted the answer to his question to be.

On one hand, he hoped that Andrew had inherited their father's abilities, and he fully anticipated that to be the case - the odds of that not happening were probably astronomical. As such, the idea that his brother might have had to grow up unable to learn how to control the element that burned within him was horrifying.

Sven knew how difficult the ability was to control at the best of times. He had had years of training to be able to confidently claim that he had a level of control over it, and even then, it was such a temperamental element that all control of it could evade him in moments of passionate anger - or even just if he lost his focus and found his mind clouded, as the injury to Carina's leg proved.

He had inadvertently let loose the flames within him in spite of the dedicated years of harnessing and wielding the power at will. Andrew being forced to repress what was natural for him because he had no such access to training by those with a knowledge of the ability was a matter that provoked sympathy in Sven. It was hard for him not to feel sorry for his brother, even if he still couldn't be entirely sure of his intentions just yet.

But it was that point that made him also contemplate just how fortunate he would be if Andrew had, miraculously, avoided inheriting the flames. If he arrived to the castle with the sole intent of taking it for himself, he could deal damage by earning their trust and wielding weapons when they least expected it, as Thorin and Lauren had. If he also had the ability to conjure searing flames, it would be an understandable concern. Such flames might not harm Sven, but they could hurt Carina and, if their son had taken after his mother in inheriting her ice, then they too could hurt Lorcan.

And if Sven lost them, he didn't think his life would be worth living.

As such, he wasn't sure which answer he preferred. Only when he heard Andrew's response and the difficulties he and his mother had faced in ensuring the dangerous powers he could produce as a young boy were repressed did the King nod to himself in understanding; in that sympathy he had foreshadowed feeling during his moment of contemplation.

As difficult as he was sure those moments had been, he couldn't deny the smile that came to his face at the response; the realisation that this was truly his brother and that they had something in common. Their lives might be a juxtaposition to one another, so different that it was almost comical, but they at least had one similarity that tied them together (aside of the colour of their hair).

And it was hard for Sven to deny just how... happy he was at that fact.

So much so that he was willing to overlook the distinct possibility that Andrew still was a threat to him; that training him to be able to control his abilities could end up being a recipe for disaster. Frankly, his instinct was that that wasn't the case and that Andrew was as genuine as he appeared to be, and with that gut belief, he saw no reason to let his brother continue to deny exploring something so natural to him as the powers he was blessed with.

"...If that is the case, then I would like to dedicate some time in the week to... helping you learn to control it. You need to learn that, Andrew. Accidents happen, the element is a... horrid one to try and control," he paused, resisting the urge to glance over at his wife at the knowingness of the pain he had accidentally inflicted on her. He let a small breath escape, his hand moving to his knee to prevent himself reaching for her hand.

"But you will need to have some control of it, you can't go through life positive constantly. You will be angered at some point and I'd like you to be able to walk away from any confrontations not having... lost control and hurt people. So I'll teach you. You can't learn it all in a week, but it'll be a start, won't it?"
 
"Can't ya... just keep a bucket of water in my room?" Andrew joked feebly, a half-smile now on his expression at the daunting truth that Sven was presenting. He had been lucky to manage thus far without any incidents, Andrew was aware of that. But his mother had taught him from an early age to avoid any situations that may set off a reaction. It's why he avoided drinking too much, left taverns at a decent time before anyone else was drunk enough to begin picking fights, walked away from arguments and rarely engaged in romantic relationships (for the fear of a bad breakup).

"Well, I know I said I try to keep positive... but I have managed to... avoid situations where that ain't possible. It's been a bit of a burden, for sure, but I don't feel like I've... missed out on much. One hangover was enough to put me off havin' any more for the rest of me life." He chuckled, removing his hands from the table as the main course was served.

A quick glance to Carina's hands helped him identify which set of cutlery he needed next and soon Andrew was tucking into the food. It went without saying that the meals being provided were certainly the best he had tasted in his life. Unused to such rich flavours and tender meat, he knew he would make the most of each mouthful he had.

After chasing down a bite of food with a sip of wine, Andrew paused in his eating to look to Sven, hesitating momentarily before ploughing forward, "But I would... appreciate the chance to learn how to control it. I ain't wantin' to be alone forever, a wife an' kids would be nice," he smiled faintly with his personal confession, "But I ain't given myself a chance to really... meet people or get close to 'em like that 'cause I don't... want an argument to turn nasty or a bad... ending to become worse, y'know?"

He exhaled heavily at the mere thought, pushing around a potato on his plate with his fork for a moment before he looked back up to Sven, "So I'd... I really would appreciate any kind'f advice you 'ave to give. I don't wanna hurt anyone, like you say, an' I've managed to do well so far. I don't wanna ruin that streak."
 
"If you want that future for yourself, you're going to need to learn some control; it's really quite simply. I don't wish to create doom and gloom during a nice dinner but accidents occur - and you'll only stand a chance of lessening the damage if you have some control of yourself. I don't think it's fair for you to restrain yourself from having some fun. Learning some techniques at the very least might allow you to let loose a little more; head out, find yourself that wife you want one day. Trust me; it's necessary," he nodded to emphasise the seriousness of his remarks. He didn't feel entirely happy about lowering the mood of the dinner by focusing the direction of the conversation towards something so serious, but it was a necessity.

He couldn't allow Andrew to leave at the of the week without having some idea of the methods he could implement to control the burning element within him; to give him more of a chance of having a life that didn't have to be restrained in fear of hurting someone.

Letting that fear rule him might seem logical now, but in years, when he was alone in his home without the family he desired, he would come to regret it - and though he had just met the man, Sven didn't want that future for him. Not when this was his brother who deserved, at the very least, his happiness.

"I'm... furious my father didn't foresee this. He knew you were his son, that you would inherit out abilities, and yet he was content in letting you grow up without understanding how to control them. That-- really does consolidate how awful he was, I-- I apologise, Andrew. It's entirely unfair that he didn't have someone sent to help you; it's cruel, really. He must have known that your mother wouldn't know how to teach you what you needed to know--" He allowed the words to fade once recognising how sharply his anger had spiked now his father was the topic of the conversation.

He didn't need to even speak about the man to feel infuriated, but discussing him, focusing on the cruelty he undoubtedly possessed, made his teeth grind together in a moment of fury - one he quickly pushed aside to avoid the atmosphere dropping any further than it had.

"Ah, anyway. We can discuss all of this sometime in the week, let's not focus on it now when we have a meal to enjoy," he concluded with a quiet smile, raising his glass for a moment in appreciation of the meal -and the reunion at the heart of it- before taking another sip to calm the growing anger. He knew not to drink enough to get drunk, not after the drunken events with Carina had been devastating, but he trusted himself to have a glass or two more of wine before calling it a night.

"I'm sure you are aware that you are an uncle? Perhaps at some point in the week, it might be nice for you to meet Lorcan for yourself? I trust your intentions are pure so... there's no reason for you not to meet my son, I suppose. I... well, I've not had any siblings growing up and, like you said, we are family, neither of us have our parents around, so I'd like for us to be close. I'd like my son to know his uncle."
 
"I've... made my peace with it, Sven, there ain't no need for you to be worryin' an' gettin' wound up over it. I ain't goin'ta lie an' say there weren't moments when I was a kid where I wished I... had someone there to help me, or that I didn't get mad at... our father for leavin' me to deal with all of it... but that's in the past now. I figured out my own copin' methods an' the though of the man ain't crossed my mind since." He watched his brother carefully, rather surprised by the reaction that had been garnered from Sven.

The people of Ignis were, understandably, unaware and oblivious to the real truth of the relationship between the late rulers and their legitimate son. They had, like any royal family, painted a picture perfect image of themselves to present to the crowds whenever public appearances were necessary. Not to mention, no word of the cruelty Sven experienced under the hand of his parents ever really made it to the villages, or at least not the ones closer to the boarder.

Thus Andrew hadn't expected his brother to speak with such venom about their father, and was rather taken aback by the heat of the anger that suddenly blazed within blue eyes.

"You're right... now ain't the time to talk about it." He agreed, turning his head back to focus on his food, fidgeting in his seat briefly afterwards. "I can only apologise again, to Your Majesties... I ain't ever meant to bring up... bad feelin's or anythin' durin' my visit. If I'd realised, I... I would've kept this to myself an' spared ya both a load of trouble."

Andrew's appreciation for being able to visit the castle and step forward with the truth he had learned recently ebbed and dipped with the atmosphere at the table. At times he felt eternally grateful that he had been granted entry and been given an audience with the Queen and share a dinner with the King. Then, in moments like this, he wondered if his presence wasn't just causing old memories to stir and further burden the young King... his brother.

Carina, on the other hand, had been left in no man's land on how to react and respond. Her efforts to do as Sven wished and act as the doting, affectionate wife as he had wished did not go unfounded. It was clear that she would play her part, and ultimately play it well when the time came, even if the acts were partially influenced with her honest behaviours and mannerisms, things she would have carried out even if things between them were as good as they seemed to be to Andrew. However, his pointed glance and petty words about Natalia had Carina hesitating, both out of hurt, the fact that he would say such a thing when she had at least done nothing wrong so far in that moment, and because she was uncertain if it was his way of trying to get her to stop touching him.

In any other scenario, Carina would have reached out to rest her hand over the one of Sven's that was nearest to her, in an attempt to calm him and ground him to reality away from his anger, but also to reassure him.

Instead, she had continued to eat, only pausing briefly at the louder words that may have occurred during his confession of being furious with his father. By the time Andrew was replying, Carina had finished her main course and had one hand wrapped around her water glass, while the other had some dress material bunched up in her fist, the heel of her palm rubbing hard against the top of her thigh in her anxiety at the drop of mood in the room.

It did shock her to hear that Sven believed Andrew's intentions were honest, and while she knew better than to show that emotion, Andrew did not. As he put his cutlery together side-by-side on his plate, he sharply looked up to his brother, lips parting but remaining speechless.

Eventually he cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, "You-- you do? I... I ain't goin' lie to ya... I did worry you'd all think the worse of me." He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I uh... when I realised I got my timin's all wrong an' what'd happened... I worried that, y'know, you'd all think the worse. So, ah, so it means a lot... to hear you say that." He smiled a little, glancing to Carian to ensure she felt the same way. When he received a reassuring smile in return, Andrew exhaled heavily and sank back into his chair.

"L-Lorcan? I-- Well... I'd be honoured. Really? You really want me to... wow. I... that would be amazin', I'd love to. I truly would." He then nodded, the smile once more returning to his face.
 
Sven wanted to like Andrew, he really did. As much as his appearance was a shock to the system after the two decades (and a bit) he had lived being unaware of his own sibling's existence, that shock hadn't transitioned into anger or discontentment - he found the idea of forming a bond with his brother important; enjoyable.

Particularly when his father had clearly done all he could to ensure the secret of his illegitimate son remained just that; a secret. He had been willing to accept criticism (albeit minor) that he had failed to achieve a second child for security, a spare, despite knowing that he had another son who could theoretically have fulfilled that role had the former King just... adjusted the rules; make them fairer.

Evidently, he had declined to do that, preferring to keep Andrew a secret and all but ignore his existence. Now Sven was a father himself, he could never imagine ever callously ignoring any child of his, regardless of their illegitimate parentage. It didn't matter to him, hence why he had no qualms in welcoming Andrew in and genuinely hoping to bond with him, both because he liked the idea of having a brother and, in fact, wished he could have grown up alongside him so his own childhood was just a little easier and less... lonely - but also because he could imagine their closeness would cause his father to turn in is grave.

And nothing pleased Sven more than spitting on the man's memory.

So, of course he wanted to like his own brother... but he was finding it hard to do that when he continued to witness the small glances at Carina, that of whom seemed to be offering warm smiles back in his direction. Smiles that held far more warmth to them than any that had been sent to Sven in recent times. However understandable her frostiness towards him was (especially when he had been just as sharp with her), he still held that love for her, that hadn't diminished in the slightest.

So seeing another man, his own brother, be the beneficiary of Carina's kindness in place of him was a matter that inevitably encouraged the paranoia's grip on him to tighten. If he was slightly concerned about her closeness to Andrew, he was now fully certain that there was something happening between them - or at least was extremely likely to happen the more they got to know one another.

"...Yes, well, I'm eager to assure you that my own intentions are genuine too; that I'm not manipulating you into trusting me or something dreadful along those lines. If you trust me, I will trust you. And letting you see my son hopefully will show you I mean what I say, because Lorcan is the most precious thing in my life. That boy is everything to me so I... trust your word; I believe you are genuine enough to have come here with only innocent intentions, Andrew. Of course, if any harm was to come to my son, you being my brother would become irrelevant, I hope you remember that," he clarified as he carefully set the cutlery on the plate, deciding to sacrifice a little of the meal in order to save room for dessert - and a coffee to go alongside it.

His smile remained in spite of the coldness that concluded his statement, the warning unsubtle in his words. He wanted to believe Andrew, and he still did think the man was honest, but his shared glances with Carina had provoked much of the paranoia that Sven had been fighting back. He couldn't be entirely sure of Andrew so laying down the threat -that he would kill him if he hurt his son in any way- felt like a wise one to make. He was, after all, a father who had just been attacked by his own best friend - how was he to know his son wouldn't be a victim to a complete stranger?

"But I'm sure you'll be gentle with him, Andrew,. I'm serious when I say that you seem like a decent enough person, so... you can meet him tomorrow. Carina, I'm sure, will agree that there's no reason not to introduce you to your nephew. In fact, you two seem to be getting along swimmingly so perhaps she'll want to be present to," he smiled once more, the words offered just to observe the reaction they caused, his eyes unable to remain away from his wife as they flickered across to her. "I'm sure you'll want to spend time with Andrew these coming days too, Carina. You've clearly been getting on well with him so I wouldn't wish to disrupt such, ah... amiability."
 
If the warning was unsubtle, so was Andrew's reaction. His smile faded while his body went rigid, his hands - which had returned to his lap - clenched tightly together, the knuckles ghosting white until he forced himself to relax. He knew he had no intentions of harming the young prince, but such a threat was not easy to be subjected to. It caused a flicker of concern that perhaps the royal didn't truly believe that he was there innocently, and made him begin to question if he really was a threat - especially just after the conversation about learning to control his flames.

However, Andrew calmed himself as best as he could, reiterating to himself that there was no need to be paranoid or worried. He was certain he would lay down the law if the roles had been reversed, and shown the strength he possessed when it came to protecting any child of his if it came down to it.

"I understand." He eventually replied, nodding once, seriously, the smile having not returned to his face, "I promise that no harm'll come to the little one, not while I'm here, anyways. I-- I want to meet my nephew, an' I promise I'll treat him with the care an' consideration he deserves."

Carina's hands stilled in her lap as Sven looked at her, their gazes locking and she having to keep her body language relaxed when all she wanted to do was tense up. There was a slight twitch to her shoulder, easily missed if one blinked, but the confusion and faint hurt that briefly appeared in her eyes lingered for longer. To her, his suggestion of her being there was a cruel challenge. He had made it clear the night before that he didn't want her anywhere near the nursery when he was spending time with Lorcan. Yet now there he was, dangling this invite in front of her, in front of their guest, to join them when Andrew met Lorcan for the first time.

However, that confusion and hurt was soon replaced with anger, which she easily masked behind a smile, allowing the anger to seep into her bones rather than be expelled onto her expression. She could almost hear the continued jealousy in his voice as he commented on how she and Andrew had gotten along so far that day, and she wanted to yell at him. Scream at him.

It had barely been a day, she was still being polite. While she was certain a friendship could potentially grow between herself and Andrew (the man was a breath of fresh air with his bluntness and warmth), she knew that would provide Sven with further paranoia. Although she was believing that for different reasons. She just saw the situation with Andrew to be similar to that with Natalia, that her husband would be worried about her taking yet another person from him.

Carina was momentarily saved from saying anything as their plates were collected once again, and dessert brought out, grateful for the moment to figure out what was best to say. Undoubtedly she wanted to be there when uncle and nephew met for the first time, not just to witness it but also out of parental worry about letting a practical stranger hold her baby. If she didn't go, she could be accused of being an uncaring mother, but if she went, she wouldn't be able to forget about Sven's words the night before, and ruining his own time enjoying the moment.

"I shall have to see, there are still plenty of letters to write back to the other kingdoms for their generous well wishes. Not to mention, I wouldn't wish to encroach on any... boy time." She responded pleasantly, lowering her eyes finally to her plate, beginning to wonder if she had the stomach for such sweetness... or for the rest of the conversation at the table.
 
For one of the first times at the dinner, Sven's smile widened in a moment of genuine delight as the dessert was brought to the table. The sweet tooth the King possessed was perhaps just as notorious as his love for a strong cup of coffee and a cigarette was - though the reasons differed. The latter loves of his life had been developed gradually over time, whereas the enjoyment of a good dessert arose as a making up of lost time; a chance to indulge in something he had been deprived of most of his childhood.

Given the old King's adoration of his own debauchery, he would spend obscene amounts on creating the most lavish of meals for him and his close allies; meals that his own son, the heir to his entire land, had been deprived of even as he entered his teenage years and was starting to develop his own reputation disconnected from that of his father's. He would have to watch from the sidelines as his parents enjoyed the lavishness their titles afforded them, denied something as inoffensive as a slice of cake.

It was no surprise that one of the first things he had done after his parents' funerals was treat himself to one of the treats he had been denied growing up, the memory of sitting beside their gravesides indulging in the delicacy always remaining fresh (and welcome) in his mind.

Such was the immediate lift of his mood, he couldn't even find himself forcing any irritation with Carina when her words only served to remind him of the petulant behaviour he had embarked upon that dinner, dropping remarks that served a purpose but were wholly inappropriate. He eased back into his chair as he contemplated the fears he had over her taking the friendship he valued with Natalia and the potential bond he could develop with his brother over time.

Fears that he felt were valid - but could momentarily be put aside if it meant offering an olive branch to his wife.

He loved her dearly, after all, and he didn't want that love to be continually diminished. On the contrary, he wanted to show that irrespective of all that had occurred to suggest the opposite, his love for her remained.

"...No, you should be there with us. Natalia's perfectly capable of seeing to that duty. I would like you there, Carina. I understand it might... contradict what I have previously said in anger but Lorcan deserves to be raised in an environment where his parents aren't at one another's throats. What I said, what I did... all of it regrettable and unjust. We might be in a difficult patch right now, and we may not ever get back on track when doubt and distrust remain on both sides, but I... am sorry for what occurred," he quipped, his voice low and head tilted in favour of the side she was sat at to avoid the more personal turn of the conversation to be overheard by Andrew. There were facts referencing the difficulties of their marriage and while he wanted to trust Andrew, he couldn't be sure that such salacious details wouldn't be spread about the kingdom.

"You are a wonderful mother and I would like my brother to see the love you have for our son," he continued louder, more than happy for Andrew to hear that remark as he sat straight once more and exchanged a warmer smile with the brother, hoping to relax him after the unsubtlety of the earlier threat had evidently made him uncomfortable.

"You'll adore Lorcan, I'm sure. He's such a lovable baby. Has a strong set of lungs on him, as is evident when he wakes us all up in the middle of the night, but he's-- such a precious little thing. Looks a great deal like me; the red hair, I'm sure, goes back through our ancestral line for generations. As you and I prove, Andrew."
 
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