webnovel

The Aurum Masquerade

The echoes of Eijirou Kirishima's boots bounced against the calcite-covered walls of the hallways, scuffing against the granite that paved the way through the empty household. He made haste, slamming open the doors to one Katsuki Bakugou's large bedchamber, his grin wide with excitement. Unfortunately, Bakugou was not in an excellent mood that evening, gingerly tending to a few wounds across the ridge of his back up to the brunt of his shoulder blades.

"It is with great honor and prospects that we, the crown royals of Tarragon, invite the highly-esteemed gentry of our neighboring kingdoms, for fine food and drink to commemorate our peace treaty of century-old tradition," announced Kirishima, reading from a pamphlet in his hands, crinkled from the humidity that permeated in the air. "But with tradition, comes formality. Our Aurum Masquerade shall be attended by our now heir-apparent, and as tradition dictates-"

"Shut up Kirishima," bellowed Bakugou through gritted teeth, rolling the square of his shoulders from the injuries. "I don't need a reciting of my... late mother's invitation."

"Well, she did set all of this up, and you need to find somebody suitable to keep the line going."

"You mean to keep the kingdom afloat," corrected Bakugou while he clasped accessories on his person - bone jewelry and leather armaments adorning his musculature.

"Ha, funny," remarked Kirishima while he reclined on Bakugou's large bed.

"Not funny. I mean, our kingdom floats but, that's not what I meant. And get your boots off my bed!"

Bakugou gruffly shoved Kirishima's legs off from the soft mattress before he flopped himself at the foot of the bed, staring above at the sparkling minerals that glistened against the flames of his small fireplace. He didn't notice the cringing look on Kirishima's face while he righted himself on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sore and stiff feelings across his torso.

"Bakugou, relax," calmed Kirishima. "It's a celebration! Even if you hate the idea of it, you can't run away from it. You are the Crown Prince and the next heir-"

"Only when I find a spouse-"

"Your mate-"

"Enough with the terminology!"

A scoff escaped from the blond, while he pulled himself from the bed, frustrated at the thought of the evening's events. He strode towards his large fur-trimmed cape that hung from the bannisters of his tall bedpost, eyeing the family crest embroidered in its shimmering lining.

"Still, plenty of fun to be had," concluded Kirishima with a chuckle, his jovial laugh dying slowly while he stared at the bruising that ran along Bakugou's ribs. "Did the warlock help?"

"Doesn't matter," replied Bakugou while he still stared at his cape. "He's not here, isn't he?"

"You must've seen something up in the sky! I told you everything about my experiences in that plane of existence. Hell, I wasn't allowed to take my Anima form, and then seeing my double-"

"You've told me one too many times," interrupted Bakugou, feeling a sharp pain run up his side.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Did you find your answer?"

Bakugou's red glare briefly turned to Kirishima, spotting the almost puppy-dog look in his eye, before he sighed exasperatedly. He grabbed a hold of his cape, swinging it around his large shoulders and fastening the fur trim together by his chest.

"I did," he replied, spotting Kirishima's eyes brighten before snuffing the excitement out with one irate look. "I found myself."

"You saw your double too?"

"And he wasn't alone."

That bright look on Kirishima's face returned, brighter than before, jumping from the bed in excitement.

"You found them, didn't you?" he chirped happily, while Bakugou straightened his cape on his shoulders. "What did they look like? Have you seen them before? Maybe the Guard can keep a lookout at the Masquerade-"

"Kirishima, stop," reprimanded Bakugou. "Let's just get this over with."

With a turn of his boots, Bakugou exited his chambers, followed by Kirishima in tow. He pulled at his cuffs, feeling their tightness around his wrists, gritting his teeth from the sharp pain that still travelled up his spine and through his shoulder. That trip to that other world, that plane of existence, had given a glimpse of what he was looking for, but at a price - losing his warlock, the man who had served his kingdom for centuries.

Bakugou retreated to his thoughts while on his somewhat deathly walk towards the large caverns that would decorate his irritation with a mask of merriment projected from those who sought his kingdom. His warlock - or rather his late mother's warlock - was an odd one, a man who did not hail from any kingdom but from some other place. He had recited countless stories, fables by the sounds of them, yet Bakugou could tell over the years that the warlock's elements were true. He never lied. Not once.

At first Bakugou thought of him as a smart man, deciding to only speak truths for fear of being torn apart within the kingdom, but he too saw his mother's reactions and how she received any words he spoke or stories he weaved. He was true of heart, despite the conniving look on his face. The warlock withheld quite a lot, and only spoke things that were needed to be said. That in itself was a double-edged sword, when he predicted the end of a reign.

After his mother's passing, Bakugou was next in line and trusted the warlock in helping him maintain the kingdom, but for one answer, it had cost him that guidance into the future.

All for one trip into another plane of existence:

Seek your intended, not by decree, but by the air from which they roam.

The light of the large cavern shone brightly ahead while Bakugou's realizations crashed all at once. He had lost the man who served his kingdom fairly and just for centuries and was truly left alone. He had to maintain his kingdom alone, left with nothing but the teachings of his people's ways from his tutors. Falling back on relying with the memory of his mother's reign and the fables of the kingdom's warlock.

"The fact that the invitations were sent to Yarrow makes this feel... superficial," groaned Bakugou while he attempted to keep some of his fears at bay.

"Don't worry, the Guard will be posted throughout the night. I trust my little Pearl will be on the lookout."

Bakugou frowned, glancing at Kirishima who played with the rugged band around his finger. Despite being a noble himself, Kirishima displayed undying loyalty, to the point that his mother had granted fiefs and given him accolades, making him now Knight Commander of Tarragon. Even engaged, soon to be married, however had decided to hold off ceremonies until the kingdom was in balance again. It made Bakugou mad.

Stepping out into the large cavern, the lights illuminated the calcite that decorated the walls and ceilings, causing light to refract a little. It was magical, thanks to the former warlock who was able to create these strange contraptions. Bakugou mulled the thought in his head - gaslights, that's what they were called. The only one's in existence amongst the Three Kingdoms. It even made Eyebright - the kingdom of invention - green with envy. Guests had already arrived, enjoying the food and drink and already drunk with joy. Yet Bakugou only saw the hypocrisy, and the terse energy of nobles guffawing over trivial or malicious things. Fake, it all felt fake. And the masks weren't helping his mood.

"Cheer up," spoke Kirishima, while he elbowed into Bakugou's side. "What's one night of hospitality? Besides, you don't need to be with everybody. Just stay here."

Bakugou's eyes turned to the tall throne that sat by the head of the cavernous ballroom, empty and looming. With a scoff, he quietly took his seat, leaning against his arm with a bored look on his face. Kirishima joined him by his side, standing tall before his eyes scanned the room, spotting his beloved across the way. Bakugou glanced at his friend's lovestruck goofy look while he waved, cursing quietly under his breath before his eyes caught sight of the crowd that mingled before him. His presence didn't go unnoticed, spotting a fair amount of guests smile at the Crown Prince, a majority of them batting their eyes from behind their bedazzled masks and posing gloriously in his direction. It sickened him to see these smiling faces, but no one with genuine pure of heart or passion. Today was his ascension, and by decree, he was to find his mate before he was officially crowned King of Tarragon.

The kingdom's warlock had given him a glimpse of who that was, but what chances were there of ever finding them, he thought, before he watched the first fluttering guest approach him with beguiling interest.

——

"What are you saying?" Spoke the nobleman with a venomous tongue. "I had specifically ordered my councilman to see to my comfort here."

"I'm sorry sir, but we have not seen him at all this day," informed one of the guards by the large castle doors.

"Are you sure he didn't wander off into the forests below?" Asked the other guard with a smirk. "They say a monster lurks in the icy depths if Travellers wander deep enough."

"Enough of your incessant banter," interrupted the nobleman. "Fine, I'll have to make do with what arrangements you barbarians have to offer."

"Oh, harsh." The chuckles of the guards roared with pleasure and allowed entry for the nobleman before his sneer turned to you standing behind him.

"Warlock!" he called, catching your attention from the sheer monumental wonder of Tarragon's kingdom.

"Yes?" you responded, capturing his unimpressed eye.

"You stand by the walls of the court, and are not to speak or make conversation with anyone inside. The last thing I want is to have to explain myself for your presence here."

"Yes sir."

"Now, follow me at two strides length, no less."

You sighed with a heavy heart, turning to eye the expanse of the kingdom from the floating castle you now stepped foot onto. It was an awe-inspiring sight, captivated by the trees and the icy mountains that surrounded the valleys below. Tarragon was a formidable kingdom and to many war-mongering generals you had the pleasure of meeting in your servitude to this Yarrow nobleman, it was also the most protected, especially with its natural floating formations. With a fleeting eye, you followed the nobleman inside, spotting the almost pitiful glances from the guards while you passed them through the doors. The lights caught your eye, refracting against the rock walls and dancing amongst the party of nobles that chattered and mingled. For a moment, you saw the party congregate by the head of the room, however, it blocked your view masked by the flamboyant feathers and trinkets that many wore to this day. You figured it was the royal family, or rather, the only royal present.

"Stay here Warlock," ordered the nobleman, his eyes cast down at you through his eerie black mask. "You are not to accept anything from anyone here without my consent."

"Yes sir," you droned.

You watched his back while he joined in the crowd, leaving you by the wall while you stared at the plain clothes you wore. Compared to the colour and brilliance of the party, you were the plainest of them all, glancing every now and then, but mostly keeping your eye away from any other, as per your lord's instruction.

"Watch it!" Reprimanded the nobleman, finding him recoil from two children that bumped into him. Your eyes turned to find them cower before he turned his nose, walking away.

"Filth," he whispered, your ear catching wind of the word.

Despite this being a party for the ascension, and invitations received by nobles from the other hailing kingdoms, all classes within Tarragon were invited. You smiled at the thought that even the commoner was allowed entry, just outside the bounds of the court, the place where you were ordered to stay. Normally warlocks were allowed to roam where they pleased as advisors for their lords or ladies, yet you were dealt a heavy hand, treated like how most commoners were from the upper class.

Your eyes turned to the children, finding them covered in the traditional furs and tattered clothes of Tarragon. They looked no older than eight by your guess, smiling again on the thought of their childhood before their Anima would manifest. You glanced at the large court, noticing that no one took mind of your presence. Speaking to children wasn't breaking your lord's instruction, was it?

"Psst," you whispered quietly, calling them over. Both children did so, while you knelt down to their level, beaming a gentle smile on your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine," spoke one of them. "He was mean. I bet he doesn't know Tarragon hospitality if it hit him in the butt."

"I'm sure he'll learn eventually."

"Hey, didn't you walk in with him?" The other asked, catching you off-guard. "Why aren't you with him?"

"Come to think of it, you don't look like the rich folk," piped the other again. "Where's your mask?"

"Are you a servant?"

"Or an escort?"

"They don't dress like that, stupid!"

"Well, they could be!"

You chuckled nervously at their banter, and their insights more so. Based on your teachings at Eyebright, you knew more than most never to underestimate a Tarragon, despite the barbaric nature they were most infamous for.

"I'm actually a warlock," you answered.

"Huh?" Responded the two together in tandem.

"But you look nothing like one."

"Yeah, well, I-"

"I bet they're lying. You're lying."

"No I-"

"You're just as bad as that man you're with."

You sighed again, more so from irritation than exasperation. To be compared to the man who treated your servitude badly was insulting. And yet, it was children that struck your nerve.

"I'll prove it to you," you quickly piped.

"Yeah? Well we know what kind of party tricks Yarrow folk do," warned one of the children with a suspicious eye.

"Trust me, you'll be surprised," you reassured. "But I'm going to need your help." You smiled at the curious look on both of their faces, chuckling quietly while you knelt. "Grab a hold of my hands. Take one each."

Still curious and suspicious, you watched them each hold a palm, your fingers gently wrapping around their small hands. You felt how warm their own hands were, recalling more of your teachings about Tarragon physiology. After all, they weren't far off from discovering their Anima, you thought, and even then, it was a matter of what stage their Anima may begin from that determines their place in Tarragon society.

"Nothing's happening," one of them spoke, still holding your hand.

"Something's happening," you corrected with a cheeky tone. "You just haven't seen it yet."

"Told you this was some stupid Yarrow trick," spoke the other.

"Are you sure about that? You've only been watching me from up here, right?" You motioned, your eyes turning to both the children. "Have you checked my knees?"

Suspicious of your words, both children slowly glanced towards the floor, finding your knees floating above the ground. In fact, your body was levitating, still holding onto their palms to ground you, until they released you from surprise. You floated slowly to your feet, your toes barely scraping the ground as if you were dancing in the air. You watched their eyes stare at you in awe, smiles appearing on their faces at the sight of you floating before them. You gracefully turned to lay in the air, controlling your movements and captivating the audience you've ensnared in your mini-dance.

"They can fly without wings!" Cried one of the kids in glee.

"So cool," spoke the other, her tone now changed from her interrogative nature.

"Have I earned your trust?" You asked, still levitating, slowly twirling in the air.

"How high can you fly?" They continued, excited by the sight.

"Shall we find out together?"

You reached your hands out to both children, offering them assistance without any complaint. They quickly held onto your palms before you started to float higher, pulling them from their feet before their toes no longer touched the floor. You spotted the panic in their eyes while they held onto you, feeling the drag of their weight pulling them down. That was until you slowly released your hands, allowing their bodies to be ensnared by the magic that bubbled around them. You heard their giggles bubble from their chests while they floated alongside you, cradled by the air and gravity that you controlled. It reminded you of your life back at Eyebright again, before you were assigned to your lord, who favoured military intervention over diplomatic necessity. Carefree, humble, and happy.

Now floating above the court, you had a better look at the expanse of the room, spotting a myriad of people enjoying their time. Entertainment was found at almost every corner, while the privileged continued to squabble and discuss matters that you weren't privy to despite your own status. However, while the children indulged in their temporary home in the air, you peered over the large crowd that congregated the famed throne of Tarragon, spotting the tall chair before your eyes landed on the Crown Prince that sat in boredom, hounded by suitors no less. You wondered what he was thinking while he waved off every person that greeted him by the throne. He looked exhausted by the insurmountable greetings from each person that approached him. In a way, you sympathized. You were merely a pawn, like a set of laurels for the militant you served. Just something to see, but never to speak of or to with a genuine inkling of care. Or perhaps, you thought that was what he felt. After all, he was a royal, a man of status that others would gladly drop to their knees for.

You caught yourself staring for a tad longer than you wanted, finding his red eyes turned to you from across the court, ignoring the noble that approached him by the throne. Your breath hitched when your eyes met, unable to turn away when a glint of something changed in his eyes. That bored look transformed before you, as if something captivated him. It couldn't be you, could it? His head lifted from his hand, still staring at you while you floated, glancing at the children still enjoying their time in the air with you. You couldn't let go of his gaze, as if something possessed your stare. It felt like you would lose him forever if you looked away.

You watched him turn to his Knight Commander, speaking to him in hushed tones, at least that's what it looked like from across the room, his eyes still on you. A heavy feeling pressed against your stomach with worry, wondering all sorts of trouble from merely entertaining children. Your throat grew dry, your heart raced, it felt as if your blood drained from your head.

"You're so much fun!" Exclaimed one of the children spinning in the air.

"What's your name?" Asked the other, catching your eye.

"I-"

"Warlock!" Yelled the nobleman before you spotted him above through the crowd, shoving past a guest or two.

"Fun time's over," you stated before your body gently glided towards the ground with the children in tow. They groaned with disappointment while their bodies followed you, landing on their feet safely. You gently took a hold of them, coaxing them to stand behind you before the irate sneer of the nobleman came on approach.

"What did I say about creating a scene?" Hissed the man before he loomed within your presence, grabbing a hold of your arm violently. "I'd teach you some manners before I exercise any restraint."

"Let go of them!" yelled one of the kids from behind you, surprisingly kicking the nobleman in his shin.

He hissed, tightening his grip on you before he raised his hand high. "You filthy-"

"Don't!"

The nobleman's eyes grew wide from the grip he felt on his wrist, holding his hand up high from where he raised it. Your eyes gazed in surprise, finding the Knight Commander of the court, Kirishima, holding the nobleman at bay, his large hand restraining your lord from striking the child you held behind you. Kirishima's hand tightened once more, causing the nobleman to wince in pain and release you from his hold, gently pushing the children back from him. Another guard approached you from behind, smiling and bowing with respect before they took hold of the children and led them away from the current vicinity.

Kirishima watched them take the young Tarragons to a safer distance, smiling at their actions before his stern eye turned to the nobleman in his grip.

"We don't take too kindly to unnecessary violence," warned Kirishima, eyeing the man who glared at him. "I'd see you escorted out from the court, quietly. My Pearl could see to that."

That sneer on your lord's face deepend before Kirishima released his hold, allowing the nobleman to tend to his sore wrist from the Knight Commander's vice grip. "Do not bother," he replied with a venom in his tone. "I'll see myself out."

You watched his heavy footfalls approach you, glancing every now and then to find the Knight Commander's eye on you before you were grabbed by the wrist, pulled behind by the nobleman towards the doors. You spotted the children reach out for you despite the distance, yet you only waved a quick farewell, finding that you may never see them again. The party still continued despite the comeuppance that occurred - a minor distraction if anything to the grand scale of the ascension before you found yourself outside with your lord in the night, soon roughly grabbed by the shoulders in a smouldering and violent rage.

"You, you embarrassed me for the last time," he hissed.

"I did nothing wrong," you spoke out before a sharp smack crossed your cheek, feeling the sting of his slap across your face.

"Some warlock you are," he continued, depraving your existence and spitting words. "To think that the Yarrow Conclave believed you to be a gift. What good are you but to jest and entertain. You're barely a warrior, by the gods!"

"Sorry to disappoint," you spat, earning another slap.

"Don't you dare speak to me, you worthless piece of flesh!"

You stared into the dark mask upon his face, your eyes boring into his filled with frustration, anger, and despite your judgement, hate. It only angered the nobleman further, watching his eyes fill with a silent rage. He raised his hand once more to strike you again, only for you to grab hold of his arm, halting his assault. He retaliated in stride, grabbing hold of your clothes and throwing you to the wayside, only for your magic to save you from crashing to the cobblestone path. You floated just shy above the ground, keeping yourself as close to the earth as possible, so not to exhaust your strength.

The strides of the nobleman approached, heavy-footed in his sprint while he cried in a fit of rage. The striking pull of his sword from his sheath caught your ear, ringing through the entrance hall before he raised his sword to strike you down. The sheen of his blade shone brightly in the moonlight, watching it in slow motion as it swung towards you. It was a long time coming, you thought, after your lord had tried many times to retract your services to no avail. He refused to accept you. He was either going to abandon you, or end you. You saw no other choices he had. Your eyes shut, feeling yourself ready for the final blow, the changes in the wind capturing every sense you felt against your skin. You made peace with it.

The melodious ring of blades echoed in your ear, while your body was surrounded by a warmth you couldn't describe. Skin upon skin, you felt a heavy heartbeat, the skin so hot that it felt like the furnace back at the estate on a good winter's day. You opened your eyes, finding your body within the arms of another, holding you into his while his large gilded sabre crossed paths with your lord's sword. The nobleman stared in both astonishment and fear, finding none other than the Crown Prince before him, embracing you in his arms and protecting you from a truly worthless death. The guards by the doors raised their weapons only for the royal to raise his fist beside him, signalling them to stand down from the confrontation. The nobleman pulled back from the large sabre, stepping with weak knees at the mere sight of the royal before him.

Bakugou stood with his head held high, his own irate sneer painted on his face before he sheathed his sword. "Were you ignoring my Knight Commander back in court when he said to leave?" questioned Bakugou.

"Your Highness, I mean no disrespect. You see, my warlock, they've not been the greatest party guests. I apologise for their behaviour earlier back in court," explained the nobleman, with a now lighter tone in his voice.

Bakugou turned to you, eyeing your apparel and your slightly dishevelled look. You glanced at him, only to look away, hoping the royal didn't mistake your eye contact for anything rude.

"Your warlock?" questioned Bakugou, still with his eye on you.

"Yes, your highness. They will be dealt with immediately once we leave your presence."

Bakugou's eyes still held steadfast, turning his body to address you. "How long have you been in service to this man?" he asked, catching your eye into his deep red ones.

"Many moons," you replied. "Perhaps a season or two. Not for long."

"And how have you served your master?"

Your eyes turned to the nobleman, spotting that threatening look on his face before you turned to Bakugou once more. "I do as he pleases," you replied, careful with your words. "He had provided me with a roof and a bed. Three meals a day." The sound of your voice was almost droning and lifeless, as if this was a script you kept in your head. As much as your lord was trapped with you, you were the same, trapped with him.

"Sounds like you haven't lived up to his expectations," commented Bakugou, your eyes turning to him with anxiousness. "It would be unfair for him to shoulder so much responsibility to keep another mouth to feed."

The sound of those words from the Crown Prince made your stomach drop. Your faith quivered from the thought that the royal was either blind, or worse, agreed to the sentiments of the nobleman.

"Yes, your highness!" the nobleman exclaimed. "I am thrilled to hear of my troubles and woes in this day and age. Help is so hard to come by, and scarce to share."

"How much?" asked Bakugou, his eyes serious and his tone just as so.

"... What?"

"How much for the warlock?"

A silence broke through the hall, leaving you staring up at the Crown Prince in confused astonishment. Was he seriously buying you as if you were property?

"Beg my pardon your highness, but they're not for sale," explained the nobleman.

"Not traditionally, no, but I'm in need of a warlock and the time it would take for the Tarragon Assembly to make a formal decision goes against my... nature," he explained in force. "It's a simple transaction. You want them gone, I need one now."

"Your Highness, the Yarrow Conclave is a very steadfast and stubborn circle. What do I tell them if I don't have my warlock? Let alone that I sold them?"

"Are you defying my birthright?" sneered Bakugou.

"No your highness, I mean-"

"Your problems are with Yarrow, but I'll be taking my warlock back inside if coin is too much of your concern."

Suddenly, you felt his warm hand on the square of your back, coaxing you to walk with him back into the court. You hesitated momentarily but soon kept in stride with the Crown Prince, walking past your, now assumed, former lord.

"But you can't just-"

The sudden clash of swords crossed the nobleman's paths, finding himself blocked by the two guards that stood by the doors of the court, their grins and smirks deepening at the sight of his folly.

"You've done enough," called Bakugou, his scowl deepening at the sight of the nobleman. "I've been told to be in better spirits, so you better leave before I change my mind."

The blades pressed closer towards the nobleman, leaving him with a frustrated bellow before he turned and walked away into the night, soon spotting him take a carriage from the kingdom and riding it down the stone bridge that connected the castle to the valleys below.

"Heh, good luck to him," commented one of the guards. "Monsters do roam about this time of the night."

"Or worse, the monster himself will pluck him from his seat," chuckled the other.

The boasting of the guards soon drowned by the chatter of the party filling your ears once more, walking alongside the Crown Prince, despite the plain apparel you wore. The hushed whispers of those masked for the party captured your senses, finding their tones harsh to the ear, malicious and curious of your presence back in court. You turned to the Crown Prince, finding him unfazed by the chatter and whispers, almost as if he were an iron wall, impenetrable.

"Kirishima," he called out, catching the attention of the Knight Commander in the large room. "Keep watch, and let me know if anything important crops up."

You turned to find the stocky man, feasting at the tables with his eyes on you, a toothy grin soon appearing on his face at the sight of your return back inside.

"Yes, my Lord," he replied with a grin. "Will you be returning anytime soon?"

"As soon as I have this business sorted. Until then, hold the fort."

Kirishima saluted Bakugou with a wave and a grin, soon throwing hand signals in the air towards all members of the Guard around the room. You watched all the guardsmen respond, changing positions accordingly to whatever the Knight Commander signaled them to do. Tarragon was a kingdom made for warfare, and it showed in their communication skills as efficient as they may be.

"This way," instructed Bakugou, nodding towards the head of the room.

With a turn away from the large cavern decorated in fractal light, you continued to follow him, finding yourself away from the crowds and into the tunnels of the castle. The first thing that hit you was the heat, the humidity immediately crashing onto your skin like a wave. It was pleasantly relaxing, and yet the sensation was odd, wondering how a floating castle would generate such heat. It was then you gazed upon the walls refracting with light from the calcite that decorated the rock. Nothing of the like existed. Not even in Eyebright.

The long red cape trailed behind the Crown Prince, turning towards a set of doors before he swung them open with a creak. He nodded inside, signalling you to come forward and enter into the room. The sudden rush of the cool night breeze hit you again, finding the room overlooking the valleys outside. It was a modest room, better than the space you were given back at Yarrow, with fresh air and a view to add.

"A chambermaid will come by with suitable outfits," explained Bakugou, catching you off-guard. "Choose to your liking, then join my congregation in the court."

With that, he left you to your devices, watching his cape trail behind him. You breath hitched in your throat the moment he left. You hoped you could utter a word of thanks and gratitude, yet you still reeled at the thought of what transpired. Would this account for kidnapping? By law perhaps yes, but it was at your own behest, and his. Stealing would mean you were property to begin with, but you were your own person, prohibited to do the things you were raised to do. It was a complicated situation, one that you knew may return to trouble you once more, but for now, you looked around the room, finding a comfortable bed covered in furs, a small fireplace still alight with embers, and the night sky decorated by the cloud cover that spotted throughout the moon and stars. You sat by the foot of the bed, feeling the sensations of the furs that lined it before you flopped onto it, savouring the touch and feel of its soft fibers.

Were you truly the Crown Prince's warlock from here on?

You turned your head towards the door, indeed finding a chambermaid or two with a handful of outfits. They didn't dress traditionally how the other two Kingdoms deemed them so, if anything, they were more regal in their outfits, lined with fur and leather, much like the Crown Prince in a way.

"Apologies," one spoke while they curtsied by the door. "We hope these are to your liking. We're not sure of the fittings, but we make for excellent seamstresses in a pinch."

"Um... thank you," you spoke. "I think we'll be fine."

They smiled while they brought the outfits in, laying them atop the bed for you to peruse. "If you do require anything, please don't hesitate to call out. We'll be waiting outside." And as quickly as they entered, they left, leaving you alone again.

The silks, the cloaks, the amount of fabric that laid before you was more than what you had seen under the nobleman's estate. A few trinkets were present in some, but your eyes overlooked those for a more simple design. Some had cloaks attached to the square of their shoulders, however, you wondered besides for fashionable standards, how that would work practically in a warlock's duty. You gently brushed your fingers across the outfits, remembering the brief moments you watched the Crown Prince's cape trail and flap behind him. You wondered if he wore similar fabrics himself, covered in fur and leather.

You smiled at the thought. You barely stepped foot into this kingdom, and yet fate had dealt you a hand, much heavier than that when you were processed for servitude back at Yarrow. You felt something in your nerves, consequences that will follow after these actions tonight. But with a deep breath, you pulled an outfit out of the mass, its finish a velvety touch against your fingers.

First things first, what do you wear on your first night as a true warlock?