DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS (Ch. 8)
[Baronsbay :Capital of the Blood realms: The blood castle]
Elslaine's steps echo along the tilings of the blood castle's halls, astonishingly so the walls we're red, well they were, but not exactly.
Built in gold and the cream of pearls the aura from the protective wards within them had bleached them red, mirroring the very colours of the ward's themselves. The scarlet hue danced along her sight to a nauseating effect,
(What brilliant spell forms...but if course, they just had to be blood based and what else for the blood-leeches but RED?) she muses, sighing with a shake of her head.
Her heel sung against the blood castle's tilings, clicking and clacking against them to a rythmic beat up the seemingly never ending stairs, a left down a carpeted hall, two guards in clean suits, it wasn't hard to find the king leech, the young king to be had been radiating his aura as if to signify his constant displeasure, to Elslaine though, it seemed more than the childish tantrums of a child, no matter, it'd all be for her own favour. Even as her mind spins her steps don't falter, Elslaine finds herself before a pair of towering pearl white doors,
(At least they aren't red) She muses, pushing heavy doors ajar,
She'd spoken to soon.
With the poise of one worthy the peerage of a Magnum, Eslaine steps into the fold of the intricately designed office,
(It's quite fitting for the the Grand Ruler of one of the head races),
"It wouldn't kill you to knock", Lucca states never once looking up from the document in hand,
"Who knows, never attempted it" Elslaine responds taking a sit on one chair opposite Lucca.
Eventually two Scarlett orbs rise to meet hers, his gaze piercing as he stares her dead at her dead in the eyes, exhaling he deems it necessary to entertain her momentarily
"And what brings you here, Elslaine?" Lucca questions, an eyebrow raised inquisitorialy,
"Is there anything wrong with a guest paying her handsome host a visit?" She questions, a smile in place as the side of her eyes crinkles in amusement. The response brings a smile to Lucca's face a light chuckles rising through,
"It couldn't possibly be so could it, that our esteemed guest from the Magik realms has a thing for her 'host'?", He teases sarcastically,
"Maybe, maybe not" She replies in kind,"could it be said 'host' wants me too?" She smirks in reply,
"Maybe, maybe not" he smirks in reply.
"As much as it would infinitely entertain me to keep your company there is much i must attend to love" Lucca states. To this Elslaine's demeanor shifts, the playful glint in her eye extinguished.
"Lord Lucca Rostovie, King of the Blood Realms, on behalf of the Magik Realms and on my authority as the appointed diplomat, i hear-by offer my assistance as per instructed" She declares, raising her hand to initiate a shake,
(Rosa espinhosa, she was made to be queen) he muses as he rises with practiced poise to take her hand. They shook, Lucca with little firmness in an attempt not to hurt her, Elslaine with ample strength to show it, she met was most definitely not of a fragile woman, but a Queen.
"Easy Rosa espinhosa, i'll need a functioning hand to wield a sword" he chuckles.
"Rosa espinhosa?" She inquires, her brows furrowing in genuine confusion,
"Rosa espinhosa" Lucca reiterates, "i take it you won't explain?" She questions staring up at him,
"Why hurry?" He smirks her hand still in his grip, "Afterall i'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other" He concludes releasing his grasp on her hand.
"I see" she replies retaking her seat, "well then, shall we get down to business?" She questions,
"Much obliged" Lucca responds.
[Drakard: capital of the Night realms: Palatul nopții]
A maid sprints through the elegant corridors of the Palatul nopții, bundling down the flight of stairs, cutting to a left, swerving to a right and then down another flight of stairs, the maid made haste, making straight for the huge pair of doors made of fine polished timber, warded by magik and embroidered with gold and and molted pearls. She pushed open the doors with the strength of her arms, into the kitchen as her chest heaved frantically, Her eyes searching for the man in question. Her eyes found him, the sight of a middle aged man with gray hair in a serving suit giving directives to the head chef, the head butler. The chef stood with his head hung low as he paid careful attention to the instructions he was receiving when the maid's shout drew their attention,
"Head butler!!!" She exclaims, Anikit the head butler's head whirled to find hers, all attention was centered on her now, even the hustle and bustle of the kitchen staff had all but slowed to a dull still,
"Head butler!" she called again rushing before him, the worry on her face evident,
"The Lord has returned" she states,
"I see" Anikit nods,
"He's already at it with the princess" she follows,
"I see" Anikit replies, (for all his poise and grace as a ruler and her elegance and wisdom as a lady, even in adult age, the two cannot still away from the others throat, though by now i'm positive the lord finds aggravating the princess a winning sport) he mulls.
Anikit made way walking briskly towards the throne room.
Anikit had practically raised the two in the wake of their parent's deaths, having worked in the Palatul nopții for two generations as of time, a young man at the time, he began working for then his majesty, the late king of the Night Realms, Lord Lard and now sworn in alleigance to his kin. The late Lord commanded respect even in death, and his son had done him justice. Both legends, one living the other dead. Even more so in was his wife and queen, the woman he'd chosen as hos mate, Queen Jazreal, She was a mother to him, beautiful even by the standards of the damned, beyond brilliant, and hopelessly sentimental, most importantly, mortal. The bond had kept her living in youth with her love, the two had ushered in the era of freedom for the Zoans, their children Sven and Sharlene had sealed it, and despite the machinations of the blood- leeches and those Magiking whores, he could almost smell the ploy, he'd failed his charge once, it had cost him a mother, he would not fail again. They where much like their parents, resilient, steadfast, almost fanatical in their beliefs. They rely more on each other than they themselves are aware of, his ears picked the object of their discussion from just beyond the doors, he had wondered still if the girl still lived, now he knew the answer, perhaps there is still romantic hope for his lord still, Anikit chuckles.