What Happens Now

Dark_Psycho

I Am Death
Original poster
MYTHICAL MEMBER
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  1. Look for groups
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Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
  3. One post per day
  4. Multiple posts per week
  5. 1-3 posts per week
  6. One post per week
  7. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Varies no exact time to be exact
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
  2. Primarily Prefer Female
  3. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy,Historical, Romance, Modern, Modern-Fantasy, Libertine, Adventure , Disney and Sci-Fi
The days had grown colder and the nights had turned long. The fires were not only used for working, but warmth as well. It was brisk fall eve as the guards to the king stood around enjoying the fire's warmth. The New crowned prince and taken over for his father. Who had gone completely mad at the end of his reign. He had become paranoid early on and that is how a young beautiful girl found herself stuck out on the outskirts of the kingdom. This girl was a high born Nobel female she had been the head of the Northerners, well her father had.

How had such a beautiful girl such as her fallen so far from grace. Well her father had been deemed a traitor by the mad king. Her family is still a symbol of hope and the start of the rebellion of the North. They have become, unruly since the hanging of her father and her disappearance. Rumors spread, she died, was captured and so on. However here she was under there noses. Still strong and still hoping to one day see her beloved once more as a free woman and not branded a traitor.

She was refilling Lord Vladimirs drink when a guard started to speak and talk of her father. She shook with anger. Her entire body froze as a dark look crept across her face. She had turned to smart off to the male when a hand rested on her. "Go get something to eat and some warmth girl you did well today." A gentle male voice said. She nods with a genuine smile to the Lord who had kindly taken her in. He even hid her true identity from the world. He had found out when she stumbled upon him. He saw it a opportunity to have a friendly noble in his pocket. He was a kind man to her and kept her from loosing her cool.

Thank full to slink off to her tent the young woman grabbed some food and ale. Not tired she decided to go for a walk under the autumn moon. She was quite enjoying her evening when a small clearing of a throat made her look up. It had been one of the guards that always harassed her. Vladimir had told him to stay away or he kill the man. However here he was. "Nice night. Little cold thought you like company." He said as he got dangerously close to her. "No I am good, I think I will turn in." She said moving away from him. She backed away and took off at a run. The female could hear the male hard on her heals. She had been very knowledgeable of the area and made twists and turns he shouldn't in the dark. Which he found out when she heard a grunt of pain. He had twisted his ankle.

She smirked and made her way to her tent to sleep. As the morning came two guards walked into her tent and grabbed her. Saying she hurt a member of their guard. "What get off me you idiots. I did nothing." She snapped as they dragged her for the palace. "Will see what the Crowned Prince has to say." They said. "No" she screamed and kicked. Looking for Lord Vladimir, but he seemed to be no where in sight no wonder they were acting on it. He must of been summoned.

Today the prince was holding court. He would sit and here the peoples complaints. However today, was going to be a crazy day. She knew she would not be going back to her cozy life.
@Felilla
 
It was cold in the royal bedchamber, cold and uncomfortable. Mason stood in the middle of the room, staring down at the dying coals of the evening's fire and shivering into his blanket. He'd slept on the chaise, again. How anyone expected him to sleep in the bed where his father died was beyond him. He had never been superstitious. Never been one to believe in the ghost stories the royals tittered about. But something about the room kept him lying awake at night, as if his father was looming over him with his mad grin. Taunting him. Corrupting him.

Mason shook off the thought. The door to the bedchamber creaked open and he turned to look. It was the edlest of his three younger sisters, Celia. She was already dressed for the day, cloaked in red and black, the colors of the House of Novak. He would match her soon. A house united, Mother used to whisper in Mason's ear as she ran her fingers through his hair. Back when he was small and innocent. In name and in spirit.

The spirit part had never come easier. When the King Father had died, the Crown Prince and the Princesses had mourned him, of course. Worn the black cloth and veils of grief and watched as his body was set on the pyre to burn. Behind closed doors, a different story unfolded. They had been solemn, of course, but the children of Arnaud Novak had breathed a sigh of relief. They believed themselves to be free of the shadow of their father.

The shadow had only grown longer.

Celia cast a quick glance towards the bed, made and untouched. "Still not dressed?" she asked, her lips quirked into a warm, but concerned, smile.

"Not all of us rise before the sun, Cel."

"You could if you managed your time better."

Mason rolled his eyes, dropping the blanket back on the pile that he'd stacked up at the edge of the couch. He turned towards the bed, ripping the sheets back and mussing them up. The last thing he needed was castle gossip. He walked behind the privacy screen in the room as Celia took a seat on the couch.

"You stay up just as late as I do," Mason called to his sister as he stripped off his sleep shirt. "Just admit it and save us all some time."

Celia laughed. "Your accusations have little sting, brother. We're all well-known for burning the late night oil. Some of us just need less sleep."

Mason stepped around the screen as he buttoned up the sleeves of his topcoat. "No shame in needing more rest. It's a human thing. And we all know just how inhuman you truly are, my dear sister."

Celia stood, her smile sharp but not unfriendly. "I resent that. You are the single most inhuman thing I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."

Mason stuck out his tongue and for a moment, only for a moment, the world felt as it had once been. Celia had that effect on him. Calmed him. Made him relax. He would miss her when she inevitably married, though she swore up and down she had no use for a husband, not when she had her brother and her sisters and dearest friend the Lady Alyss.

But the moment passed as Mason reached for the crown he kept on the table in the middle of the room. It was replica, one for everyday occasion, the real one locked away in the royal safe. Mason almost wished for the real one, not the one his father had worn everyday for fifty years. He sighed and settled it atop his head. Celia watched him in silence before shaking out her skirts.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

Celia bobbed the briefest curtsey. "We shall."

As they left, Mason cast one last glance back at the bedchamber. He bit the inside of his cheek and wished, for once, that ghosts stayed where you tried to leave them.

----------------

Inside the throne room, Celia broke off from Mason to join their sisters, Euphemia and Giselle. Giselle offered her brother a quick but excited wave. Mason cast a glance at the throne next to his, the throne for the Queen. It had sat empty for nearly thirteen years. As always, the thought lingered at the back of his mind. The thought that he needed to marry. Needed to secure the throne. It wasn't as if his advisors would let him forget either. He put that thought away with the ghosts and the shadows.

Mason slowly settled into his throne, watching as his advisors and sisters settled into their own seats. Soon, the throne room would be filled with ruckus and noise as people asked for favors and flattered with gifts. He turned towards one of his Lords, Lord Wright Thomas, and nodded. Wright nodded to the guards and the massive door leading to the throne room scraped open against the stone floor. Mason pulled a piece of lint off of his coat.

The announcer called out to the line stretching out of the palace doors. "You may approach His Majesty, Crown Prince Mason Novak III of Priacor."
 
As the doors were unlocked, the royals waited for the flood of peasants, well wishers and so on. The Guards passedthe others as if enraged and incensed. As if she had committed a serious crime, which coming back here she had technically done so yes. He had his men drag her before the prince. She fought and struggled every step of the way. Z was dragged in as well as the guard who had sprained his ankle chasing after her. He had sent the guards to drag her before the prince. With every fiber of her being she did her best to get free of their grip. Her heart pounded as she was dragged and knelt before the king to be. Her hands shackled and shook with anger and fear. Her head was bent to cover her face. Her shoulders and body were rigid and rebellious the stance of any northerner. She only hid her face afraid of it being recognized in court. As she was forced to her knees she looked about under her hair as she saw Vlad the guard she worked for. She saw him straighten at the sight of her. However, his actions got the attention of the Captain of the guards Gerald. Would he recognize her? She hoped not.

Z was breathing deeply as the guard spoke. She was angered and could see from under her hair Vladimir’s dark look of fear and anger. Fear for her and Anger towards the guard. He was a northern lord; it was why he took her in and kept her secret. She listened as the Guard accused her of leading him to harm on purpose and she should be punished. She has been nothing, but trouble since she started working around the guards at the camp. Z couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “Excuse me I was out on my own, enjoying the evening when your guard pursued me. If he hurt himself running after me I was no way involved.” She spoke up. Her eyes showed and burned ice blue as she spoke. The guard looked down at her and raised his hand as if to back hand her for speaking out of turn to the king to be. “Stop.” A voice spoke. She looked over to Vlad. He had stepped forward. “Your grace This young lady has worked for me for many years. She is highly useful and I have told them to stay away from her. However it is obvious this one did not listen. I do not believe she intentionally hurt him. If he got hurt he did it himself and is lying to get rid of this lovely helper.” Vlad spoke.

Z dropped her head at Vlad’s cue. Her eyes closed as she begged that she wasn’t one to be recognized. However her prayers were not heard the Captain of the guard had recognized her. He leaned over to the prince. "If you are going to let her go, let me speak with her privately before you do.” He said to the Prince. He was watching the stark white hair female how she had come up with white hair. Both parents had dark hair, but her Grandfathers and Grandmothers both had stark white hair. It was forgotten with her family. The only thing remembered is her father and the loyalty to the lord of the north. He knew she had nothing to do with it. He did not think her father did that either, the man remained saying he was innocent till the very end even with the possibility of living on the table. He rather die head held high and remain innocent then live with the title traitor the rest of his days.

Zarina was shaking, hoping Vlads plea and explanation would set her free. Free from all this messed up world of the royals. Politics and such had not been her world for many years. She was quietly whispering a prayer to the mother to save her life. Her prayer was heard, but it would be saved not how she hoped it would be. She would not be leaving there today not as a lowly girl serving Vladimir.
 
She was breathtakingly beautiful. The Prince shook that thought from his head as soon as it entered. He was not his father. He did not bed every woman that walked in front of him. Only a few.

The throne room quickly dissolved into a sudden kind of chaos that caught Mason entirely off guard. Not even a chicken offered before such a ridiculous sentiment. The former King would kill them all for so much as dragging this situation before him.

Mason just took a deep breath. He glanced over at Vladimir. He was a loyal Lord. An honest man. Political, smart, but honest. "Do you speak for her, good Lord?"

Vladimir glanced between Mason and the girl before giving a small, curt nod. Mason waved his hand. "Very well then. Release her."

"B-but-" the guard with the twisted ankle sputtered.

Mason's gaze snapped over to him, eyebrow arched. "Do you question my judgement, soldier?"

The soldier's anger quickly ebbed into timidity. He shrank back into a bow, releasing the girl as the others did. "No, Your Majesty."

Mason turned his gaze back to the girl. His eyes dipped over her snow white hair. An unusual coloration, but Mason had seen many things in his life. Still, a combination of the hair color, Vladimir's insistence, and Gerald's request piqued his idle, curiosity-bound mind. He leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand. "And what is your name, fair maiden?" he glanced at Vladimir then back at her. "Or what did you call her? Lovely helper?"
 
The wait was like a sword hanging over her neck that was swinging closer and closer to cutting off her head. When the Crowned Prince said she was free to go and the shackles came off. Her breath left her chest, she could see Vladimir do the same. Her eyes went to her protector and she walked over to him. He had claimed to speak on the girls behalf. He knew and yet he had not told the prince who she was, she knew this would cause trouble. However he had protected her and if her secret were to ever come out then she would take it off of him and on to her.

However her luck seemed to have run out. Vladimir’s interest, and Geralds interest to speak to her, caught the prince's attention. Of course it did. She knew this was too good to be true. So freaking close did he know was he guessing? Her eyes went to look at Vladimir to ask what to do, but before she could speak. Gerald did something that couldn't be undone by any means. He stepped forward and spoke. "If you please your Grace this is Zira Blood, however she may seem all to familiar. I am more than positive this beautiful woman is Zarina Blackwood the Daughter of Lysander Blackwood." He spoke.

Heart dropping from her chest into her stomach as the air hung heavy in the grand hall. All eyes were on her. How could he do this to her, she understood he couldn't lie to the king it was a hangable offense. She wasn't here to cause harm, she had been doing just fine under Vladimirs wing. He stepped next to her protectively. Her mouth almost dropped stunned. The entire room of peasants and so on had all eyes on her. Some angry, some intrigued, and Northerners showed respect. She closed her eyes a minute, of course her life would go like this. She straightened her head and moved her hair back. She could no longer hide.

"Yes what Gerald has said is true." She said. "I changed my name, to hide my identity. I never meant to wind back up here." She spoke with authority and grace like she always had even when she was younger. Her eyes went to the guards that seemed to have multiplied. Her body stayed relaxed if she was to die then at least she knew she would be the catalyst to start the uprising of the north.

Vladimir held out his arm and went to put her behind him. She placed her hand on his arm gently. She gave him an, it is okay look. Her heart pounded in her chest and yet outside she was calm, cool and collected. As they waited for what the Prince would say and do. She silently begged the almighty mother to save her life. However something caught her attention Gerald had leaned into the Prince ear and whispered something. What had he said. She wanted to know.

Gerald knew what he was doing, he didn't out her to get her killed, he knew this would help bring the Northerners in line id the prince kept her about and maybe even married her. He needed to marry and she was the one thing to unite the kingdoms with the southern kingdoms and western kingdoms trying to push in. He leaned in. "Your Grace, if you keep her and do not punish her, we might be able to bring the Northerners under our belt once more. This will be punishment enough she has been free to do as she pleases for the past few years, living back in the Capital itself will be like a prison. The Northerners are ready to rebel and if you kill her this might just set that in motion and I am not sure how well we will make it out of that one." He said and stepped back as he stood straight.
 
Mason raised his eyebrows as he was presented with this new information. His father had done a great many things wrong; destroying the Northern nobility was just one of them. He rubbed his brow, looking out over the court still assembled. They watched with great interest, their thirst for gossip and drama much higher than their thirst for helping the country. Some of them were good, some like Valdimir and Gerald. Some were little more than bloodthirsty vultures. Mason had spent his entire life navigating those lines.

He looked back at the woman in front of him. Facing death for treason she likely had little involvement in. Mason had thought all of the Blackwoods were dead. A foolish sentiment. His father had carried too much trust in his executioners.

"Clear the room, Gerald," he said with a faint wave of his hand. He trusted that he didn't need to specify who stayed and who left.

Gerald swept his arm out and everyone left. Vladimir lingered for a moment before he was inevitably excused like everyone else. The only people that remained in the room were King, Captain of the Guard, King's sister, and the daughter of an executed Lord.

"Gerald, you should not advise on such sensitive topics in the presence of the court," Mason admonished with a slight smirk. He swung his head back around to look at the woman in front of him before glancing at his sister. "What do you think, Cel?"

Celia scrutinized Lady Blackwood with a small frown. She gave the smallest shrug after a moment. "I think Father would've killed her where she stands."

Mason chuckled and smiled at Lady Blackwood. "Well, it is a good thing I'm not my father, isn't it, Lady Blackwood?" he hardly waited for a response before sitting up straighter into his most royal pose. "And you are not yours. Our parents might or might not have fought wars, but that does not mean we have to as well. You were born a Lady of Priacor and a Lady of Priacor you will die. But not today, and I hope, not for a long while. You will remain in court, reinstated into your previous position. However, as a little caveat for sparing your life, I suggest that you support me and my reign openly and loudly. And in order to keep a better eye on you, I am making you a Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Celia. It's a very high honor."

Celia rolled her eyes at that.

Mason leaned forward in his seat towards Lady Blackwood. "I regret to inform you that until I can trust you, you will more or less be a political pawn. I hold no qualms about stating it openly. But one day, I hope that we can be great friends and I hope to trust you enough to return your family's unused lands to you. Are we understood, Lady Zarina Blackwood of the Great House of Blackwood?"
 
It was as if she was on the sea shore it felt like the ocean was crashing over her head and drowning her. She was outed and now her protector had been asked to leave the room. She looked at him and nodded, she hoped she would be okay. She knew her ex betrothed wouldn't kill her; he wasn't mad like his father.

Gerald bows and apologized. "My apologies, my King. You are correct." He spoke. Zarina stayed stoic as her heart pounded in her ears. She listened as he asked his sister and her chest tightened her eyes became defiant. She would make sure to start a war if chose her death. However he chose not to listen to his sister. So why ask? She kept her lips tightly shut. She felt rage flair in her chest as he said she die, it calmed at the not today or for a long time. She almost released a sigh of relief then he spoke again.

"I shall not. If you wish the Northerns to come back under your wing I will not be a slave or Hand Maiden to someone else. My people will not see me minimalized. I will openly support your reign and tell my people to stand down. I will stay here where you can observe me. I would like Vladimir here with me. He helped me when no one else would. You want me to be a pawn, fine, but I refuse to be a servant to anyone else anymore." She said, She gave him a look. She wasn't a doormat and she wasn't a servant. She watched him. He seemed to agree, she had agreed to everything but serving his sister. This was her new prison. Her freedom was gone. Her voice was no longer hers to speak aloud. When he agreed and nod for a servant to come get her and take her too her quarters, she bowed and turned on her heels.

Her racing heart finally slowed. She stepped out and saw Vlad. He stood waiting. She ran and hugged him. He held her close. "Will make this work my Lady." He told her. They walked talking to her quarters where a bath was drawn for her and she happily went into it. She took her time with the bath that was warm. It was the first time in a long time.

When Zarina was done dressing in a nicer outfit she went to sit in her chair as she looked over at Vlad. "How do I convince my people to just up and follow me if I have been gone and to follow a so-called King that I know nothing about. As kids we sure as hell knew one another, now I am just nothing. Not even a proud northerner, just a pawn to bring peace to the kingdom." She said. Vlad sighed and looked at her. "I am sorry my Lady it was my duty to hide you and keep you safe, now its just my duty to keep you safe." He said.

Vlad was right; she needed to figure it out herself. "Come with me." She said. She made her way out of her room and down to the Garden. Vlad stepped back and let her walk a bit in front of him. She sat by the water and looked into it. She did not recognize the girl staring back at her. She slapped her hand on the water letting the water ripple. She looked away and frowned. Her white hair was done, her blue eyes cold. She got up and kept walking. She wound up in a graveyard. She found a grave far off from the others unkept and covered in vines. Kneeling, she worked to remove the vines from the stone. No grave deserved to look so run down especially in the castle grounds. She slowed as she revealed the name and held back tears. She read her fathers new saying here lay the traitor Lysander Blackwood, Zarina had to sit as she slowly cleared the rest away. "I am so sorry daddy I will make this right. I will make you proud of me and our people again." She said. She wiped at the tear in her eyes.

Her eyes looked up when she heard voices. It was him thankfully where she and Vlad were hidden from view. "She is not in her room your Royal Highness its said she came to the gardens. Many saw her just wandering them. She hasn't said or done anything, just been solem and quiet." The male knight reported. She heard him say to find her and have her get ready for supper. She stayed for a moment and finally got up. She was walking back to the main part of the garden when the knight told her and she nodded. "Tell his Highness I am not feeling well, I will not be joining him." She said,

Making her way to her room. She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She needed a moment to think. She really wasn't hungry, she didn't eat much when she beena peasant and now with all of this her stomach hurt. She drank some water but lay silent. Her eyes were closed when her door opened and Vlad stepped in announcing Mason's arrival. She didn't move to stand, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Surly her absence wasn't that big of a deal.
 
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"This is foolish, Your Majesty," Gerald hissed after the chambers had cleared out.

"For once, I agree with Sir Gerald," Celia added as she sat down on one of the steps to the throne. She flattened her skirt and turned to peer up at him. "Though I suppose you have some kind of plan."

Mason cast a glance at the remainder of the room's occupants. Celia and Gerald, of course. Euphemia also sat present, her ever-present contemplative smile on her lips; Mason harbored no doubts that she was working through any angle she could conceive from his actions. She was young, barely sixteen, but wise beyond her years. Lord Wright Thomas also leaned up against one of the walls, one of Mason's most trusted friends since childhood. Next to him, his husband Lord Kendry Prosper. And lingering in the pews where the nobles had sat moments before: Lady Alyss Carstair. Mason's closest confidants. All young, intelligent minds. Many saw issue with the way Mason chose to surround himself with younger (and in the case of Kendry: newer) nobility.

"Plan?" Mason hummed and tilted his chin into his palm. "My plan is as it has always been, dear sister. To dismantle Father's legacy and forge a new future for Priacor."

"She just discredited your words in front of the court," Gerald said. "Denied your instructions."

"And I didn't strike her down where she stood," Mason said with a wave of his hand.

"It shows mercy," Kendry said, nodding his support of Mason's actions.

"It shows weakness," Celia admonished. "I know you wish to be seen as separate from Father but your reign is too young; you can't show mercy to insolence."

Euphemia shook her head. "If Mason revoked his clemency over such a trivial issue, he would be made out to be a villain, especially amongst the Northerners."

"Who still remain the largest party against His Majesty's reign" Wright added.

"If anything, she did us a favor by refusing the position," Mason said as he pushed himself to his feet. "She has Northern blood; I do not expect her to bend easily. It will endear her more to her people."

"And if she chooses to betray you?" Gerald asked.

"I suppose we will cross that bridge if we come to it," Mason replied. "Though I suppose I have always been terribly fond of detours."

-----
Later that night, Mason found himself at Lady Zarina Blackwood's door. He'd wanted her a dinner. A show of faith and support immediately following her pardon. Nothing fancy or official. Just dinner with him and his sisters and his friends. But if she felt unwell, he supposed there was little to be done about that. Parading around a palid face would do just as little for appearances as executing her.

She needed to be seen as a friend, not a prisoner, no matter how untrue the statement may be. Because, for now, she was in truth a prisoner. He hoped to change that with time.

"Thank you, Lord Vladimir," Mason said with a nod of his head as he stepped into the room. It wasn't a large room, but comfortable he hoped. He readjusted the tray in his hands. "I understand you aren't feeling well so I thought I might bring something to ease your ailments."

He avoided looking at the bed as he stepped over to the small two-person table on the other side of the room. "Some ginger tea for an upset stomach and a little bit of bone broth should you get hungry. Some fresh water of course," he set the items on the table. He tilted his head. "I do hope you feel better tomorrow. Princess Celia has offered her seamstress for you to use so that we might get you some proper clothing with your family's colors and crest. And in three days times, my advisors would like to establish a plan of action with you. I told them you needed a few days to adjust, gossip be damned."

Mason picked up the tray and finally turned to look at Lady Blackwood. "I do hope that we can eventually become friends, as we once were," he offered her a faint smile. "Should you need anything, you need only ask."

He gave her a small bow of his head before leaving the room. Vladimir lingered outside, his expression apprehensive. "I thank you for this, Your Majesty," he said.

"I am only doing what needs to be done, Lord Vladimir," Mason responded as he reached up to adjust his crown a little bit. "But you and I will need to discuss how you harbored a fugitive. I forgive you, but some will be seeking action."

"Your Majesty, I-"

Mason held a hand up. "Later. For now, I request that you keep an eye on Lady Blackwood. Mentor her. Help her adjust back to life at court. We won't hold any public appearances for a while, but she will eventually need a reintroduction to Priacor."

Vladimir bowed low, "Of course, Your Majesty."

Mason glanced at the door one more time before making his way back to his chambers where he would lie awake for many more hours until the sun began to rise in the sky. And where he would wonder if he was making the right choice.
 
The room wasn't elaborate, However it was better than the tent she been staying in. Sitting up when Mason entered, a wave of nausea hit her. She hated this she had so much to do. Yet she felt like the weight of the world was crushing her. She looked at the tray and sighed as she sat back."umm thank you mason." She said, She watched him put the things down. Why had the king brought her these things? She kept her lips tightly shut. She watched him and nodded. She wasn't sure how to act with him. She was his prisoner.


"Thank you, I will definitely take her up on that." Her eyes met his. "Yeah we can male a plan to bring peace back to the kingdom. She looked at Vlad and it hit her. She needed to get the people to know of her and her willingness to help. She needed to speak to them. The best way was to write a letter to the main lords and eventually get them to speak in person with her. He spoke again and her mind and eyes went back to him. "Maybe someday." She spoke." Yes I will." She said. She knew she was being stiff and he was trying, but this was all still new. To her well again. She bit her bottom lip and tried to quell her anger and hurt.


Z waited for him to leave before she got up and went to the writing desk and started to write a letter to the Lords of the north. Valdamir entered and looked at her and the note. "Z is that such a good idea?" He asked. "It needs to be done, Vladimir. I am the one thing they need right now." She said and sighed. She went back to writing and finished. She peaked out of her room, when she saw the coast was clear, going to grab her cloak, she walked silently along the halls to the raven tower. She tied her note to one of the messenger ravens and sent it off to the north. She sat watching it fly away, after a bit her and Vlad made their way down. She was walking back from her room when he grabbed her from behind and put a hand over her mouth.


Z almost punched him hard when she stopped to listen. Her eyes went to his, as they listened. "We can't let her ruin this, we need to find a way to kill the girl, she is a bad omen being brought back here like this. The king has lost his mind. If you ask me he should be dealt with as well." A male voice said. However the chilling voice of a female, one Zarina knew all too well made her blood run cold. "We will do that, you are right her and him together at last, they both belong two feet in the grave. However,go before someone sees." The female hissed. Zarina watched the pair walk down the hall. Her eyes went to Vlad. He held up a hand as he nodded for her to follow him. He gave her a look to say not here.

Once she was inside her chambers the door locked, the room checked and she turned to Vlad. "We need to talk to the Northerner nobles more than ever. Mason is in trouble and it sounds like I am as well." She said, "What do we do?" She almost panicked. "You need someone to test your food from now on." He told her. "You will not ever leave my sight or someone I trust. Welcome back to court." He said grimly. She looked at Vlad and frowned, wondering what had she done. She breathed in and stood at her table. She felt like she had lost her breath. Sharp pain in her stomach. She couldn't breathe and her hand landed on the table. She felt Vlads arms and she turned to sob into his chest as she held him. Zarina was having a meltdown and panic attack. She wound up laying in bed with Vlad. He just held her as she slept and he was always watching.

The morning came and he lightly moved to get up. He softly got her things ready yet let her sleep. He finally woke her"My lady it's time. You also have a raven." He said she pushed up and went to clean up as she also took her time. Finally cleaned up She dressed and made her way down for breakfast. She saw Mason and bowed to him. "Your Highness." She said. She took her seat at the far end of the table, she had someone test her food and waited before she ate. She looked at Mason, how she was supposed to speak to him alone. However before she could say anything Vlad came up and spoke in her ear slipping a paper in her hand. She nodded and put her hand up to say thank you.


"Mason, I need to speak with you privately, please." She said finally. She needed him to know.
 
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The next morning came with a dreary, tired air in spite of the clear skies and hot air. Mason squinted at the harsh sun streaming through his curtains from his slumped-over position at his desk. His eyes shifted over to his sister, unsurprisingly, sitting on one of the couches as she flipped through what looked like ledger. "Good morning, dear brother," she greeted without looking up. "Long night?"

Mason groaned, burying his face back into the nest of his arms. "More like a long decade," he groused before he leaned back.

Celia winced as his back popped. He knew it sounded awful, stress already pushing his body beyond the limits of his age. He eventually forced himself to stand, striding over to the pitcher of water to wash his face and neck. "DId anybody kill Lady Blackwood in her sleep?" he asked Celia, only half joking.

His sister hummed at his attempt at humor. "Not yet but the day is still young," she said and Mason ignored the pit that formed in his stomach at the thought. "There have been whispers though, Mason. Discontent with your choice."

Mason stared at the wall, back to his sister as she continued to look through the ledgers that, more than likely, contained finances she would force him to go over with her. The country was, after all, dripping with debt, a little inheritance from the last King. Mason pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to force back the migraine forming by sheer force of will. "There always is," he finally conceded. "Get Alyss on the trail for any would-be assassins, please, I can't deal with this right now."

When he turned around, Celia had finally set the ledger down. She peered at her brother with a frown, concern evident in her expression to his trained eye. There had been a time when he worried for his younger sister, worried that she was too vocal, too forthright, and honest to secure a good match. He missed those qualities now, watching as his sister held her tongue.

"Of course," she said softly with an air of finality. Then, quieter, "Alyss is going to have a field day."

Officially, Gerald was the Captain of the Guard, tasked with handling the palace guards and the safety of the royal family. Unofficially, the Carstair family, and by extension, Alyss, were in charge of the actual safety of the royal family. They had always lingered in the shadows, on the outskirts of the royal family but were still indelibly entwined into the Novak rule. Alyss was a friend, first and foremost, but she was also a spymaster with her charming disposition buried into every crack in Mason's young regime.

If there was dissent, she would root it out without a hair out of place.

Mason sighed. "Breakfast?"

Celia patted his arm. "Think you might want to take this one by yourself," she said before leaving and taking the damned ledger with her.

Mason sighed again, louder, maybe a little petulantly, and made his way to the breakfast room. He accepted the pile of paperwork offered to him as Zarina swept into the room. For a moment, Mason blanked, suddenly remembering a time when they once sat in the nursery, throwing scones at each other. His chest ached. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to just sit here and eat breakfast as if the world hadn't suddenly been flipped on its axis overnight?

He let his taster try his food before eating a tiny minuscule bite and glaring down at the decrees that needed to be signed.

Mason raised an eyebrow as Vladimir spoke to Zarina and slipped her a piece of paper but he didn't say anything. He needed Zarina's trust, not her animosity and secrets. And she would give it when she gave it.

She turned to him, words urgent, and he waved a hand through the air. The servants and guards scattered without a word and it was suddenly only the two of them. "Yes?" he asked, looking back down at the law that some Lord wanted signed into office. He grimaced at the paper. "Does it have something to do with your new taster?
 
The room cleared with the wave of his hand and she looked surprised. "Yes, but not here. I don't trust that the walls don't have ears. The garden when you're done with your breakfast. Please, it's very important to you and me. Where we used to hide from our parents. You remember the place. Only we know of its existence." She said, "Mason,..." She hesitated. "Thank you." She said quickly deciding something else would be off-putting to him and her. She looked him in the eyes before quickly taking leave of him. Her hand beckoned Vlad along to the Garden with her. She quickly and silently made her way along the winding maze path of the gardens. She reached an area and made a sharp turn into a small alcove hidden unless you knew it was there. It was safe no one could sneak up and if someone came you could hear their footsteps.


"Thank you, Vlad, stand guard please, this is something I must tell him alone." She said, She waited to look at the raven's note when he left. It was from the northern lords. Her eyes closed and she breathed in deep. They would meet her. That was a hopefully good sign. She crumpled the paper and hid it in her dress. She sat down waiting, it felt like forever till she heard a footfall. Her heart raced silently as she held her breath. She held her hand up when a torch lit up her face. Her eyes lit up to see Mason. She was worried it was someone to come get her, not that Vlad would let that happen. "Thank you, I am sorry. I just needed somewhere safe feeling, this is all I could think of. I will talk fast before the King is missed. Last night on the way back to my room from my evening walk to clear my head. Vlad saved me again. Someone is plotting your death and mine. I have sent a raven to the northern lords. They wish to meet and discuss," she said. "Hoping I could be granted to go. If you wish to come I would be more than happy to have you come along and see it's Nothing more than a meeting to bring them under your fold once more." She spoke to him as if they were friends once more. Oh, how she missed him and being near him.


She kept herself from him the best she could, but the alcove was much bigger when they were children, so she was close to him, almost touching very little space separating them. Her eyes went to his. She lost the cold demeanor she carried in public, she was being genuine and honest with him. She watched him softly. It was intimate and how she wished she could be with him again. Her heart raced as she spoke to him. "I would never lie to you and I trust Vlad with all my heart to keep things quiet. Please don't take him from me. He is alI have left from my old life. I promise he will be no trouble. Not for you. He is trying to help us." She said, She sighed and beckoned him closer as she spoke the name in his ear. "That's who the female was. I did not recognize the males voice." She said, She had whispered it so only he knew him, her and Vlad. She didn't know what could be heard outside the alcove.

@Felilla