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Archive 26 / white-wall-snow-tires
Triggers: War, Possible adult content
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bonghitsforfeds 06/14/2023 02:58
A veneer of fresh powder hugged the low rolling courtyard. The space stretched outward toward an oval wall of pointed pines that occasionally rippled with the whisper-kiss of a light breeze. The same stirring of air would whip up little tufts of fresh snow into icy spirals that wound about lazily before crashing back to the ground in a silent splatter. A three story flat sided cream palace stood proudly with a stern guarding gaze out across the frozen space. Many shimmering windows reflected the pale landscape, and each one of them was surrounded with a molding hug of rose gold trim. Asymmetrically placed pillars rose from the center of the structure, and each of the three towers was topped with a bulbous mushroomed roof that was affixed with a gold cross. Dead vines cling to the structure in sporadic placements from where they had yet to crumble away due to winter’s harsh embrace. The lightest of snows floated down from a dark gray sky, and beneath it were the rumbling engines of three reflective black SUVs. They hummed down the easel of flat white on some invisible path only known to them. To the driver’s of these vehicles the wide covered road was easily memorized and traversed, but to a stranger it would appear they just magically traveled in a straight path. Each car was adorned with glossy fluttering flag pins displaying the local cultural image of a Siberian tiger in bright red. The convoy of cars rolled with practiced confidence, and behind each one was an atomized plume of snow kicked up from the thick tires.
03:00
Sat up straight in the back seat of the second vehicle was a stout looking man. His sad gaze drifted out the window and over the cold family property. Silent frustration tickled his nose into a rising tick at the sheer level of unfinished estate work surrounding him. Vines grew up on the side of his family's palace, and the road wasn’t even cleared. How many millions went monthly to staff and concierge whose soul purpose was to keep this area presentable? Normally it wouldn’t even be a money issue, but repeated audits had their books tight this year. Turning his left hand over the individual traced the crease in his palm. A familiar sharded scar ran in a zig-zagged pattern in the softest part of the lower flesh, and painting the destroyed nerves buzzed his brain in a calming way. The only comforting thought he found to center himself is to remember that everything would get better in time. “It’s only a matter of time...” He mumbled the statement to himself like it was a prayer. Which in all honesty it might as well be considering the weight it lifted from his sore soul. The passing row of similar vehicles almost didn’t even grab his attention. So lost in focus on the state of his life, family, country, and people that the convoy hardly seemed worth the time of day. Was it the way the sun had caught the snow and painted a beautiful scene on the side of her car? Or, perhaps fate had reached down with cold fingers and guided his gaze up to the rear window? Staff had been muttering all week about the disgraced diplomat coming to stay. He had not given it much thought. Any other time of year a young educated woman coming to live in his home would have caught his attention like a whore in a church, but with so much talk of money, war, and nukes it had just hardly pinged his radar. Piles of magazines, escorts, and internet videos had done plenty to calm the storm, so what was the point of adding a girl to his geo political nightmare?
03:00
. Not looking into her had been a mistake. That much was plainly evident by the two second glance of her face as the cars rolled by. Wide Sunglasses wrapped her pretty head, and her brown hair was pulled up taught into a frilly pink bow. Something white and fluffy peeked from a long neck, but that was all the time he got before the thick honeysuckle ran dry in the fleeting moment. “Holy shit, stop the fucking car!” The aide in the passenger seat snapped his gaze back with surprise and spoke a brief command into his earpiece radio. Moments afterward the row of cars skid to a stop, and a few seconds after that the trailing plume of frost caught their vehicles before fluttering to the ground. Any other staff member would be scolded or fired for such an outburst, but the fat man in the front seat was more than just an employee, “Andrei? Do you need to piss or something?” His heart pumped with a heated flurry, and each of his fingers was drumming against his trousers with fiddling excitement. “It’s just an interview right?” The fat man shook his head in confusion, and Andrei knew the concierge was trying to outthink his confusing actions, but was forced to respond before a conclusion could be made. “With prime time propagandists yes, why?” Now his pudgy eyes squinted in concern. “That girl who-”
03:00
. Andrei barely got any time to speak before the man jumped down his throat, “The girl? The fucking broad from Switzerland? Her dad kicked her out for being a party brat.” Huffing with frustration Andrei rubbed at his beard with the scarred hand. She will be here after the interview, there is no doubt about that. What if your brother gets to her first? Now his hands clasped together and knocked at his forehead in decision making. The fat man spoke first, “You can’t just shelve a political function for a girl Andrei, and let me make it quite clear she is a girl, a twenty-four year old girl.” He drug the tone out in a scolding way that rattled inside the car with parental fury. Even if the large man was a familiar family friend, something about the way he had spoken to the prince spawned a peeved scowl on his long features. “Turn the cars around.” The fat man wanted to argue as he knew it was him who would inevitably answer to council members and donors over their absence. All he could do was stare daggers while issuing the command to turn around into the tiny earpiece. “For a girl really?” @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/14/2023 03:15
”No, Hugo, Jesus Christ, that’s ridiculous , even for me, you know that. I don’t even know why you’d imply that! I’m disgusted with you,” The brunette chattered away on the phone. Despite having 3 sisters, she always, oddly enough, turned to her younger brother, Hugo. A year younger than her, he seemed to be the most levelheaded of the entire family. Family. Blech. She popped the gum in her mouth, looking out the window. The palace was nice, she’d give them that. This whole experience vaguely reminded Imogene of boarding school. Being sent away for being a trouble maker, which, apparently wasn’t something her brothers worried about. But that was the least of her concern. Hugo babbling on about the prince of.. whatever country she was in, and how he was a supermodel, or could be, if he wasn’t riddled with PTSD. ”Well, I hear Alexei, his younger brother, is a wonder in bed…” Hugo babbled on. UGH. Imogene rolled her eyes, but quickly noticed another fleet of vehicles driving by. She could see an older man in the second car. God he looked sad. Going to a funeral, perhaps? ”Hugo? Darling?” The slight French accent Imogene was known for appeared in her voice. Her brother mumbled something. ”I have to go. I’ll call you later. There are some Playgirls in that hat box under my bed if you get desperate. Toodles!” The phone clicked. And that’s when Imogene heard the tires of the other vehicles skid. She stared at the fleet of vehicles. She looked over the seat in front of her, staring at her driver, Joseph, in the rear view mirror. ”Joseph?” She asked softly. ”Yes, Dutchess?” Imogene slipped her sunglasses down a little, a sly smile forming. ”Why the hell have those cars stopped?” Imogene Diana, Princess of Agura Saint-Pierre, always the blunt one. ”I think… you have an audience, Miss.” Joseph replied, in a similar tone to Imogene’s. He understood her. ”Good! Let me out, please. I need to meet whoever the hell is in charge of me being here.”
03:18
Joseph immediately gets out of the car, walking to her door. He opens it, and our steps Imogene: Christian Louboutin heels, pink Chanel dress, and a white fur coat from some tiny village in Russia. And it truly wouldn’t be an Imogene look without her tortoise shell, cat eye Rayban’s. She stood by her vehicle, anticipating a greeting from the depressed looking man in the other car.
03:18
@bonghitsforfeds
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/14/2023 05:43
The prince did not bother waiting for the fat man’s response, and the comment about it being for a girl simply clattered off the back of his head while staring toward the other vehicle. It had stopped in a similar fashion to his own, and he was praying to anyone listening that it was because she wanted to speak to him. It could be about anything as far as he was concerned. She could storm up to his window and start screaming about the state of this snow covered yard and he would only nod his head in agreement. When the driver of Imogene’s car stepped from his door Andrei immediately yanked the handle of his own open with hunting focus. His black boots whiffed into the silky snow covering, and he placed his service cap atop his head before shutting the door behind him with a smooth kerklunk. In a passive habit of nervousness he ran his thumb and pointer finger back and forth across the reflective gold lipped brim three times. He had done it a thousand times in some bombed out dusty shit hole half a world away, and he’d do it a thousand more times before he keeled over dead. Before the door had clicked shut the fat man managed a, “Where are you fucking go-” If there was one thing you could think steel for it was it’s ability to shut out yelling voices when combined with a bit of rubber.
05:43
. He got a few seconds of true peace in the large gorgeous space. For a moment it was just him, the stranger chauffeur, and the running engine of the vehicles surrounding them. The moment was immediately shattered when several car doors opened behind him to dump a clown car of bodyguards. Turning around Andrei waved a dismissive hand at the lot, and a taller one who was in charge of wrangling the rest of them spoke to the side and into his headset. By the time the prince swung his gaze back to the front her leg had already protruded from the now open back door. This had to be a false reality. He was thoroughly convinced at some point that he had passed out on his bed in a drug binge and the pixie emerging from this car in front of him was actually a model on a magazine page. He actually rubbed at his eyes and took the time to reset his vision when she stood up in heels. Heels? This crazy bitch is standing in three inches of snow in stilts like that? With a quick glance down at his stylish buttoned campaign jacket he straightened a blue and gold medal before attempting a confident few steps to close the space between them. Something was shuffling behind him. It was probably a bodyguard, or perhaps Dawson had actually climbed his fat ass out of the car to join up. Doubtful, but nothing would make him turn around now that her face was on his. The fleeting moments before he opened his mouth to speak felt like an eternity when he realized how unprepared he had been for this interaction. It would have benefited him greatly to have read that paperwork on her now. What is her name? She was too pretty for him to try a lie. That jawline could slice him open, and there was no doubt in his mind that if he tried to fib it would be stammers and red faces in seconds. If the body guards made a fool of him now there would be hell to pay. They stood back, and only two of them appeared to be armed holding long gleaming rifles.
05:43
. With a slight bend of the knee Andrei swiped up Imogene’s hand with memorized careful motion and planted a soft kiss between the middle of her center knuckles. Just the brush of her taut skin against his lips had little wings in his stomach fluttering with jittery bubbliness. “Prince Andrei Sibirsky, first to the Dagrian throne, and retired colonel. Locally they call me ‘First Claw of the Rending Paw’, but you can call me whatever you prefer beautiful.” He finally let go of her hand and stood back up tall with a roguish smile. It was hard to keep the beaming grin wide when she was forcing him to watch her lips suck that bubble gum back in. A gripping of phantom fingers worked into his lower spine, and he felt the pressure of attraction pinching at his back. Part of him hoped she just rolled her eyes and spat that wad of gum back into his face. At least then he would have a souvineir of this conversation. Fuck the propogandists I am going talk this little things ear off all day. From just behind him and to the left came the throated voice of Dawson, “To what do we owe the pleasure my lady?” Somewhere within Andrei a primal flame of frustration flickered that the man had opened his mouth. Still through the intrusion managed to cut through his charming grin, and the prince shook his head in a shared look of royal frustration with the woman. I am going to kill that fat bastard. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/14/2023 05:57
’Well knock me up and call me the Virgin Mary,’ Imogene thought to herself. She looked the man up and down, poker face on, but deep down, she was… incredibly puzzled. Childlishly, she, albeit out of habit, blew a bubble with the gum in her mouth, the pink gum incasing her red lips. She could tell the man hated the fact she was in heels, or was at the least, confused by it. Try going to school at Rosenberg. You get used to snow and heels. Nevertheless, she kept examining the man. Formal uniform. Hot. The real question: was this the younger or older brother? He kissed her hand. Dang butterflies. The hint of gray in his hair indicated older, but royals go gray early. Once he said his name, it hit her. This is not the royal…. whore her brother has the hots for. It’s his troubled older brother! Goodie! Wonder if the Lord above has any more tricks for her, like believing she’s Joan of freaking Arc. No. She’s gotta say something, get out of her head. ”My name, Your Highness, is Princess Imogene Diana Lêvêque, heir to the Agura Saint-Pierre throne.” She glared at the fat man on that last part. Part of her could tell he assumed she was Swiss. It’s what everyone assumes. NO. Saint-Pierre is it’s own country, thank you very much. A part of Imogene wanted to kiss the very tall prince in front of her, but he had to be like, what, 30? She rolled her eyes, shaking all the thoughts from her head. She gestured to Joseph. ”This is Joseph Monteblanc. My driver and assistant. The rest of those bloody cars don’t matter, they’re yours anyway.” She scrunched her nose when she mentioned who the cars belonged to. She wanted to leave Dagria and go home. Sleep with some slutty rock star or formula 1 driver or someone with a stupid blue collar driver. She needed a break. She did not need to be stuck in bloody Siberia for six months. Curse her father.
05:57
@bonghitsforfeds
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/14/2023 08:06
The bright bubble gum popped with crisp clarity through the still winter air, and each emission of it was a blast of distracting energy straight through the Prince’s mind. It swept through the space with demonic effect, and each pass of it tore more of the proud man’s focus off into little bolts of zapping energy. Part of him was convinced if he stood here and watched that all day he would eventually melt down into a sizzling puddle before being absorbed into the Siberian soil beneath. He’d tumble and fall through the cracks of earth until coming to a gentle rest dead beneath the ground. Then he would be sucked up into the roots of a plant and pushed back up through the ground as a beautiful pigment of spring color. If then he would catch this princesses’ eye as something worth focusing on it may actually be worth the transformative process.
08:07
. It got even worse when she began speaking, and the cherries of that accent rolled out of the gorgeous young woman’s mouth. They splattered on the ground in little gushes of sweet flavor, and he wished to be standing closer just so the vibrations of the exotic sound could be felt in his cheeks. Your highness? Her manners stirred his gut around with a large serving ladle. Little chunks of forgotten emotion floated up in the broth, but this was not a time for getting lost in mushy emotional slop. It just got better and better as well because now the girl was saying something about being a princess. Should he be happy that she is royalty, or should he kick himself for not addressing her properly? Either way he hoped the professional slip up had gone over her head. Something about the way she carried herself betrayed an education however, and that set the tall man on edge. Never mind the attraction he felt to women with degrees, but it just meant she was more capable of out maneuvering his wily charm. The whole experience was wrapped with a soft bow matching the one on her head when the princess shot hateful glances toward Dawson. If anything by the end of her stay here the prince was confident she would hate the pudgy hover of a permanent resident. With a bow of his neck just enough the silver pin centered on his cap flashed in the dim light the prince said, “My sincerest thanks Mr. Monteblanc for working to transport the lovely princess to the palace.” It had only been seconds and already this little greeting had every meeting suddenly many pegs less important to him. For a moment he had pondered apologizing for missing her title, but the distracting hatred in her eyes as she passed her gaze over the property said enough about what she thought now. Even if she was judging his home she looked so tasty behind the dark glasses that it made one want to piss her off just to see her peer angrily around again.
08:07
. In an attempt to respond to the sad passing gaze he spoke up, “I know it can be rather dreary when you first get here, but we have an old joke in Dagria that goes something like, ‘The old lady keeps the best secrets under her second mattress.” It sounded dirty now that he had said it, but he hoped it was just an internal overreaction at trying to outthink everything. Too bad half his thoughts got stuck in orbit of this dashing little thing and revolved around her head to smack him in the other side of the face. It was too distracting and he yearned for the moment to progress out of this standoff. With an outstretched arm and sly tone, “You seem to be confident in those shoes my lady, would you humor an old prince by walking him to the door?” Normally he would not push the gender roll back around like that, but something about this was so juicy and silly. Worse she could do is say no, and at that point she would still have to share six months of meals with him, so who really loses then? It was worth the social risk because if she agreed he would soon be rewarded with the experience of touching her through the sleek jacket. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/14/2023 15:07
”Sweeheart,” It was Joseph’s voice. He leaned over subtly to Imogene. She leaned over as well, quietly and gently bracing herself on his arm without much attention. ”If you don’t want this man, I can think of a few women at home who’d be on their knees for him in a heartbeat.” THUD. Imogene elbowed Joseph’s side. Her eyes glared at him, then back to the prince, saying something akin to ’Say something to the nice man, dear, or no treat later.’ Except the treat was his employment status. Joseph muttered out a half sincere thank you in a thick, québécois French accent. That was why Imogene liked him. Because her mother couldn’t understand him. Lots of secrets were exchanged by the two. She was snapped back to reality by the prince speaking. That was a sorry excuse for a joke, if you could even call it that. She forced a pretty genuine smile. And then she was back rolling her eyes. Lady? Oh, this prince has a death wish, doesn’t he? Joseph could tell that Imogene was tense, and he suddenly began his best job: speaking for the princess. ”Your highness,” His accent was gone, a clear, understandable, French one in its place. ”The lady,” He said with a thin, but detectable layer of snark. ”Lets men walk her to the door. Not the other way around. Have you no manners or sense in Dagria?” Imogene’s elbow thudded into his side again, a knife-sharp glare accompanying it. ”I suppose I can switch it up for once, Joseph, it won’t kill me, now will it?” Joseph furiously shook his head, muttering to himself, québécois and all. She, allbeit reluctantly, grabbed the Prince’s arm, expertly ignoring the patch of black ice that would kill any other idiot dumb enough to try what she just did. Thanks for the sign, Heavenly Father, but I’d like to try naturally messing up my life by not breaking my hip. She’s muttering. If anyone could hear her internal dialogue, she’d be dead. Or at least even more disgraced than she was.
15:08
@bonghitsforfeds
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/14/2023 18:46
It was obvious the young girl and her attendant had history. Something had been shared between the two that fell deaf on the prince’s ears, but the only additional feeling it elicited was sly jealousy. A younger version of himself would have burned over why the Frenchman got to lean on her, but with some wisdom and salt it only made him chuckle inwardly at letting a piece of flesh rattle his mind. It was hard to stay upset anyway when she kept delivering bony elbow blasts into the strangers ribs. Now the mysterious thick accented man was teasing about the title, and Andrei’s beaming grin grew another half inch at the humor. The prince spoke with professional flowing honey, “Darling to look at and brings charming company.” He bowed formal thanks, “You are allowed in my home anytime Princess Imogene Lévêque” He drew the title out just to continue the game of tossing it around, but he only hung on the last word because he liked the way it rolled around his mouth. He’d pay good money just to hear her repeat that name at him in that silky intonation. His heart thundered with increased pace when she locked her arm into his. The way their elbows hugged together was near perfect, and if he dipped his shoulder just a tad it allowed her to match the height with no problem.
18:46
. He turned his head just enough to catch a passive glance down her body before directing his gaze back to Joseph, “In Dagria our museums and cloister are filled with images of just as many women swinging axes as there are men. The palace behind you was built on blood money that was won in costly war, and during that time our nation was led by a lady.” Yes, let him chew on that one. Maybe the prince likes having a courageous woman walk him to the door? With a mischievous smile Andrei directed his attention back down toward her fluttering hair bob “Don’t worry your highness if you slip I will make a good effort to catch you.” With one last quip directed at the driver, “Not that I was concerned, but your friend here may doubt your efforts.” After a wink off towards Joseph he began to walk the damsel back up the driveway.
18:46
. Her stride was short, and he had to tighten the muscles in his core in order to keep a gait slow enough to not drag her. Was it two or three steps of hers for every one of his? Now that annoying heat was pressing between his ribs again, at least it was nice to feel a fluttering in his heart that wasn’t due to a glossy magazine page. She even smelled nice, and little hints of sharp perfume snuck out past the bubble gum candy that surrounded them every time she chose to pop it again. Just don’t stop doing that the whole time you are here, please. He needed to say something or this perverse heat melting his heart was going to progress to his trousers. The man was fit, and the taught muscle of his forearm was now evident in the way they walked together. He pointed up toward a corner window on the Eastern side of the palace, “That wrap around room there is my favorite. It has a shuddered sky light that can be opened fully, and in the morning you will see Husky, Bear, and if you are really lucky a Tiger.” He nodded agreeing with his own statement before even saying it, “I’ll have them clear that suite out so you can stay there.” There were so many more ways to try and wow the exquisite guest, but the way she disarmed his professionalism had him rolling with honesty instead of flattery. He really did like that stupid corner room, and hopefully she didn’t grow bored of his talking by the front door. Shrugging to himself, Oh well worst comes to worst Alexei will get to her and he can just regale me afterwards. It took God's effort to not glance down at her body again. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/16/2023 16:09
Does this man think he’s funny? Imogene thought to herself. Repeating her name back to her was… kinda attra— NOPE. She wasn’t thinking that, not this time. Her arm locked in his was simply a diplomatic thing. It meant nothing. Blood money? Major turn off. Imogene kept her cool, though, forcing a clean, polite smile the entire walk. She looked back at Joseph at the Prince’s last comment, shrugging her shoulders. Joseph had seen Imogene walk up the Agura palace steps, slick with black ice, in stilettos. She hadn’t fallen. It was almost like witchcraft, in a way. The gum in her mouth switched from a bubble to a wad in her mouth multiple times. She listened to him babble on about the room in the palace. And then he told her that’s where she’d be staying? They had reached the front door. ”Thank you for the.. brief tour, Prince Andrei, but if you don’t mind, I truly am exhausted. Would it trouble you if I took a nap?” It wouldn’t, because Imogene had memorized this man’s schedule after Joseph had seduced some lowly secretary. He had an interview he was missing by trying to get in Imogene’s pants. Was the prince hot? She needed Hugo. Hugo could rationalize her thoughts. So she’d nap, and then she’d call Hugo. And stay away from the prince for as long as possible until she figured it out. And one thing that was for sure? The gum needed to go. She spat it out into a snowy bush, then turned to look at the prince, smiling coyly.
16:09
@bonghitsforfeds
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/17/2023 21:21
In all honesty the woman’s ability to float over the ice was impressive, and her arm hovered between his own, hardly using it for support. An experimental boyish side of him wondered if she could remain standing in them after a harsh shove, but he quickly tore his attention back to the present when she started speaking again. Everything she said had absolutely nothing to do with what he just said which likely only meant she thought he was an annoying fool. His consciousness whined, fine, don’t sleep in the pretty room full of windows, see if I care. At the top of the three step entrance were two thick pearl colored doors with spiraled drops of pink tourmaline set into the wood’s natural rivering cracks. Two guards of equal height stood stiff with antique bayoneted wooden rifles, and one of them reached for a lacquered knob in preparation to open it. Andrei’s mind sprinted in frustration by being outplayed by a guest who had yet to even step foot inside his home. Did she know his schedule? It would make sense for some homework to have been done about where she was headed. With closed eyes and a political smile, “Of course not Princess Lévêque, I imagine you must be exhausted from travel.” His eyes opened to meet her reflective sunglasses before continuing, “The cold here also has a way of sapping the life from you. To be honest I am not sure if you ever get used to it.” Talking of the weather was painfully average, but being within earshot of palace security made him nervous. He was about to tack on a polite warning about prying ears, but then she turned to propel the gum out of her lips and into a Siberian Burning Bush. The abject level of depravity combined with spitting on an exotic flower outside his front door should have had his neck pulsing with defensive rage, but instead it only worked the gripping in his spine up toward the middle of his now sweaty back. Some chorus in his mind, Damn, maybe she does need someone to set her straight?
21:21
. Disappointment hung over him like a shadow that he was forced to clear his throat in order to speak. “Don’t worry Princess, I’ll come back to pick that up for you later.” A lifetime of political practice was expended to not lay a flirtatious note onto the statement, and he hoped that the words served enough to get across his appreciation for her bratty attitude. Andrei had always liked a rebel, and it was that very same character flaw that had his country currently being squabbled over by larger powers. The guard must have read the moment as he twisted the handle and with a groaning creak the massive portal swung open. Inside was a polished reflective marble floor that cast reflected images of the crystal chandelier dangling the entrance way. Before letting her arm drop the tall man leaned down toward her ear with a straight look. “Remember Imogene, there are eyes and ears everywhere in Dagria.” In all honesty his mouth should have stayed shut on the matter, but something about the dainty punk shifted his gears, and he felt responsible to warn her of how sometimes around here it feels like the wall never came down. A sad emptiness flushed his chest out when her arm fell from his, and he wished she had not mentioned the stupid nap so he could follow her inside. Oh well, at least Dawson will be happy we made the interviews. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/17/2023 21:31
Imogene studied the guards. They looked… scary. But she could probably break their shells. She had done it with the guards in Saint-Pierre, and she even broke a British guard outside Buckingham Palace once. If the prince would stop being so damn hot when he spo—. No. The weather. It’s cold. Cold does sap the life from normal people, but not Imogene. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head once he started the political niceness after she spat out her gum. She will give Dagria one thing: their palace is nice. A little… old. But it was alright. Eyes and ears everywhere? What, does this man think I’m a child? I may have had my ….. issues. But I don’t need to be monitored twenty four seven. That’s ridiculous. Imogene muttered under her breath. She looked around the palace, and noticed a member of palace staff. She asked them to show her to her room. She really needed that nap now.
21:31
@bonghitsforfeds
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/17/2023 22:15
He got the gift of her goosebump generating accent for a few seconds before the guard shut the door behind her. Andrei had yet to finish putting to memory the way the bow in her hair jumped when she took a step, and he locked eyes with the guard for a split second of silent scolding. That was all it took for a lump in the guard’s neck to bob, and that satisfied the frustrated prince enough to return toward the car. The angry stomping to his fluttery gait distracted him enough to slip an inch and if it was not for a lifetime of practice on ice he would have skated down the stairs into a pile of broken bones. Before finishing the descent he took a calming breath and as his boots hit the bottom Dawson was reprimanding him for the entire exchange. The cars might as well have been a marathon away for how much the fat stand-in of a parent managed to scold the retired Colonel for in that short time. What the friend failed to realize was the prince had many years of practice at retreating to a space in his head while an angry well dressed man smoked him for something stupid. Once enveloped by the warm hug of the SUV Andrei felt foolish for assuming the rants would stop once back in the car. With only the security driver as an audience he continued the tirade. Normally Andrei would have told Dawson to can it, but the secluded space of mind while being scolded allowed him to occupy himself with thoughts of her during the car ride. His military mind retreated to a stone room where it hyper analyzed everything that just happened down to a paralyzing degree. Did he overstep any boundaries? Did she think he was dumb? Would she tell everyone he was an old pervert? Now a gloved hand was rubbing at his forehead, and Dawson must have taken this soothing motion as an insult.
22:15
. “Are you even listening to me Sibirsky?” It took until now for Andrei to realize his cap was still on, and he removed it in an action of embarrassment. Dawson continued, “My God! You cannot even remember to maintain vigil!” The train of scolding continued onward toward the next station, and now the prince was repeating the same lines of thoughts but flipped around. Did she feel how big my arms were? What will she think about before her nap? Will that gum still be there later? Now a stupid grin was on the prince’s features, and he spoke with an honest glowing, “Okay D maybe you are right. I might need to forget about her.” That must have been the wrong answer because now the prattling increased to a near roar, “I was talking about the gap in our oil markup compared to Russia the past two weeks? They will be asking you ab-” His green eyes grew wide into one of Andrei’s favorite looks he made, “You are still thinking about the pink harlot?” Back and forth the two men went until the motorcade arrived at its original destination. The only reason the two stopped their favorite game of bickering was because of the press photographers and small crowd gathered near the venue. Even as the whined bulb flashes recorded the arrival of Prince Andrei Sibirsky, his mind was anywhere but the plush carpeted floors of downtown Kerith. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/17/2023 23:59
On her walk to the room she’d be staying in, Imogene learned several things. First, the maid leading her was named Anya, and she wasn’t from Dagria. She was Russian, and fortunately for the both of them, Joseph magically appeared with Imogene’s bags, mumbling about customs and parking the car and nonsense that Imogene shushed instantly. Joseph was much smarter than Imogene, in the sense that he spoke Russian. So, for the… oddly lengthy walk back to the room she’d be staying in, Imogene’s conversation with the maid bounced back and forth through Joseph, who really should’ve been a professional translator instead of some lousy assistant. But eventually, they reached the room, and Imogene gave a sincere and polite “thank you” to the maid, since “thank you” was the only thing she could say in Russian. Once the maid had left, Joseph and Imogene entered the room. The wrap around skylight the prince toted so highly about was closed, thank God. Imogene needed to be hidden from the outside world of this… odd country. She flopped down onto the bed, skirt billowing like a kite. She removed her sunglasses, sighing and rubbing her eyes. “Joseph?” Her voice was meek, a think French accent covering it. ”Mm?” The man grunted, making sure he had all of Imogene’s bags. ”Was the prince…” ”Attractive?” Joseph finished Imogene’s sentence. She sighed in anguish. “Am I truly that predictable?” A soft chuckle from the man. ”In some regards, yes, but in this regard, no. He’s genuinely a handsome man. I wouldn’t suggest attempting anything with him. At least, not right away. Because—“ ”My father, Joseph, I’m not dumb. Ugh. This is all so ridiculous.” Joseph sat on the bed next to Imogene. ”You need to rest, Princess. Because if you’re going to try and flirt with him at dinner tonight, which, don’t lie and say you aren’t, you need your energy. Alright?” The girl rolls her eyes. ”Fine.” Joseph plants a kiss on Imogene’s forehead and leaves the room. She’s asleep in seconds
23:59
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/18/2023 02:21
The tall prince stood with his back to a stone wall while a group of FSS swept the room. First a team of people with dogs, then a group of men with various sized electronic devices, after that there was a group of secondary searchers each performing the same function as the first, and then finally he was cleared by Dawson to enter the space. A thick table of decent length stood proudly surrounded by chairs. It appeared to be some sort of stone, but once his hands actually brushed the greenish material it felt more like a hard plastic. Seating himself in the middle on one side he was soon joined by various members of staff including individuals of the team that would be interviewing them today. There were brief introductions and hand shaking before the door was shut behind them with a click and the all clear was given for free discussion. Normally propaganda discussions and prefaces were interesting from the perspective of political intrigue to Andrei, but today it was just a sea of babbling heads. Topics like centrifuging fissile material and building power plants are not low brow, yet his mind was on some stupid pixie fluttering about his palace. Was she asleep already? Did she just lie to me so she could go pound Alexei? The term ‘future Siberian war conflicts’ ripped his focus back to the discussion, and after being kicked in the ankle by Dawson the prince managed to keep his focus for the next hour.
02:21
. The rest of the meeting went well enough, and after a brief sharing of bread and spirits Andrei and his entourage departed back for the palace. Surprisingly Dawson had little to say on the ride back, and the snow had picked up to the point the vehicle’s passengers were mostly full of stress of spinning out or being caught in a crosswind. It was not quite a blizzard yet, but if it kept growing at the rate it was there would surely be orders issued for people to stay in their homes. After a slightly perilous and rather exciting journey back home, the group of people soon found themselves alone at the shimmering front doors. Quickly the prince and his party climbed the icy steps and all were thankful to be out of the cold and away from whatever mother nature was cooking up. After parting from his coat, and a brief conversation with Dawson the tall man soon found himself alone in his room where he lounged on the side of a twisted four post bed that was spread with a grass green comforter. Unlacing his boots was frustrating from the cold lingering in his fingers, and after removing both of them he worked the dress slacks down and off his sore legs. The prosthetic of his left leg was still secured snug with its fitting jell. The above knee hinged device was brutalist in its complicated assembly, and after massaging the sore flesh above where his knee used to be he worked at getting ready for the evening.
02:22
He must have been excited because his shower was over faster than he typically anticipated, and the only reason he noticed was how little the floor to ceiling wall mirror of the suite’s bathroom had fogged up. Queen Anastasia-Dagra had been a paranoid woman, and most showers in the palace were clear glass fixtures set near the center of the room. It had become such a nightmare when Westerners came to stay that they had to have an entire wing redone with a private bathroom to get most people willing to bathe. He rolled his eyes while working to get dressed, and at some point while he was changing a staff member had snuck in and removed his military dress. Scolding himself for being so lost in thought for not even seeing it he tried to focus while slipping into the royal blue two piece suit. White button up and brown leather loafers with matching belt were chosen as accents. His air was oiled post shower with an herbed mix that smelled of juniper, and the final touch was a gold pin with rimmed emerald that was set into his left lapel. The object was heavy and made the suit piece hang just slightly, but the colors were a good match of her home country, and it made him beam with mischievous confidence. Checking a matching gold watch beneath his left sleeve there was still over an hour until the event. When was the last time he was ready this early for something? Should I rub one out first? His mind went to the box in his furthest closet, and he almost walked over to it before shaking the thoughts from his head. Focus Andrei. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/18/2023 02:41
There was a gentle, yet forceful knock on the door. Imogene immediately startled awake, and there was Joseph, hovering over her, holding a red, midi length dress. ”Dinner already?” She muttered sleepily, rubbing her eyes. ”Unfortunately, my dear.” Joseph helped Imogene sit up, remove the white fur that rested on her shoulders, and unzipped her dress. Imogene was groggy, but the second the red dress was on her body, she was awake. Joseph had dug through one of her suitcases and found a different pair of shoes, sparkly gold Jimmy Choos, to be exact, that went perfectly with the dress. Despite sleeping for who knows how long, Imogene’s curls were still mostly intact. She removed the bow, though. The bow was, well, it was Hugo’s idea. It was childish, yet so very Imogene. She also switched her earrings, from diamond studs to small, chunky gold hoops. She looked in the mirror that was in the corner of the room. Good. Yes. Mostly good, minus of course… Joseph thrusted a small, glass perfume bottle in her hand. Imogene lifted her wrist up to her nose. Her sugary sweet candy perfume was gone. And now to put on her fancy, formal affair perfume. Grapefruit, jasmine, and a slight musk now danced on Imogene’s skin. The bottle returned to Joseph’s hand. And in Imogene’s was placed a pearl necklace, an homage to the French who ruled over her country for.. a week? It was confusing. She never did good in history. Nevertheless, the pearls went on. A final tussle of her hair, the fastening of her leather watch band, and Imogene was ready. She looked at Joseph. “What is this outfit screaming at you?” Joseph hummed. He cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. “An American politician’s mistress, Dearest. I mean that with kindness and sincerity.” Imogene clapped her hands together, silently laughing. She returned to look at herself in the mirror. “Good. I’ll take it.” Joseph looked at his watch, a confused look on his face.
02:43
“What?” Imogene remarked. “This is the first time you’ve been ready early in years.” Imogene stifled a smile, turning from the mirror to look at Joseph. She realized she’d forgotten something. She dug in an open suitcase, finding what she was looking for: a golden cross necklace. She put it on, turned to Joseph, and smiled. “Well, good! Let them think I’m already reformed and maybe they’ll send me home.” She winked. Joseph rolled his eyes. There was no curing or reforming Imogene.
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/18/2023 04:20
After an oath to stay in his room until it was almost time for the meal he paced the space roughly six times before giving in and leaving into the hallway. He found it amusing how even in his own home doing nothing out of the ordinary he still felt wrong because of how loud his thoughts were. A pressing annoyance bit under his ribs from how impossible it felt to shake her image from his mind, and in an attempt to distract himself he began strolling toward the Palace library. Currently on the third floor with most other bedrooms he made way for one of the staircases on this side. Passing by guards, paintings, display cases, and other various arrangements he soon found himself moving between floors with the muffle clicking of dress shoes. From the first floor he caught a whiff of butter and spices in a saucepan and an embarrassing grumbling growled from his stomach. There was a brief moment he considered abandoning literature to go bother the chefs for some sneak peeks at dinner, but after brief consideration continued with distracted sauntering towards his original destination. The room had wooden doors centered with stained glass images of Mikhail Bulgakov holding a small globe. Pushing open one of the swinging portals Andrei immediately felt himself relax at being surrounded by the private collection of reading material. The thick aroma of wood pulp and book glue filled his head, and after the dizzying effect left his mind he floated toward a bookstand displaying what he had been reading last time. Open wide on the coiled metal shelf was an old leather bound grip of parchment detailing mining sites in the area back from before world war one. Closing the volume with a dusty thump he tossed it aside before making way for a far group of shelves. After scanning various titles the tall prince pulled a book titled, ‘Agura Saint-Pierre - Three Kings and Three Wars’ down and hauled it back over to where he had started.
04:20
. Setting the heavy thin-paged volume on the antique book stand he flipped it back to the index where a long finger scanned for familiar words. Eventually his eyes located Lévêque, and after flipping back a few hundred pages he located a lengthy explanation of family histories. His eyes were granted three words of reading before the door swung open behind him. Frustrated, he spun slowly around, but was pleased to find it was only a trio of cleaning staff who were already scurrying off to begin whatever duties they were here to perform. While the library double doors slowly whined closed the prince caught his reflection in the angled glass as it captured his image. Any other day he would feel dashing in the outfit, but a sudden rather sad feeling of foolishness welled up inside at what he was attempting here. Am I trying to sleep with her? Foolishness ramped into disdain when his consciousness answered the question for him. Gulping at his own goals Andrei let his gaze fall to the gleaming broach near his collar. He reached up to remove it but froze when his fingers found the mechanism near the back. Was it so bad to wear if he readjusted his expectations? Resisting the urge to stroke at his beard in fear of ruining its oiled shine he drummed at his forehead in desperation. Desperately he wished to ask Alexei for advice, but this would only supply the brother with ample ammo to tease the prince with. Stuck flip flopping in annoyed thought the well dressed royal thumped his foot and bit at a knuckle. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/18/2023 04:43
To be totally honest, the idea of being early made Imogene a little sick to her stomach, so while Joseph called her father and his counsel, reassuring that no, the Dutchess had not been kidnapped and was missing in the Dagarian woods (what lies were the national media here spreading?) Imogene had her own fun. Surprisingly, Imogene was able to smuggle some weed across the border. She had heard rumors, mainly from the always inaccurate Hugo, that weed was touch and go in Dagria, but apparently the king was some kind of insane party animal? She didn’t quite know what to think, or honestly didn’t care. She was just happy she had the goods. She lit a joint, holding it delicately, while she called Hugo. And Hugo pounced. Firstly, the boy was relieved his sister wasn’t dead (again, propaganda is a …), but then he had a million questions. Mainly about the younger prince. Andrei’s brother. “Is he cute? Have you met him? Or have you been stuck with the old hag? Oh, Dutchess, I shouldn’t call him a hag, should I? That would be rude, considering he is your type.” A deep, pained sigh from Imogene told Joseph that Hugo struck a nerve, so he placed a hand on her thigh. “Hugo. Do you think this.. Prince Andrei is…” She took a drag of the joint. ”Hot? Mmm. In a sick puppy kind of way, I suppose. You’d be good for him I think. Maman knew a girl who worked for his mother. She said that this girl said that when he got back from Iraq he was like… a mega party animal or something. You could bring that out in him, Dutchess.” Ahh Hugo. Always saying exactly what he means without realizing it has consequences. “How is mum?” Imogene inquired genuinely. ”Oh peachy, now that she knows you haven’t been eaten by a bear,” Imogene couldn’t help but chuckle, handing the joint over to Joseph to dispose of. She checked her watch. She should be heading down to dinner soon. “Good. Hey, tell her I said hello, alright? And I’ll give your number to the other prince.” (edited)
04:45
Imogene hung up the phone before Hugo could scream with delight, and looked to Joseph. ”Should we head downstairs?” ”Probably smart, yes.” He replied. The two walked to the door, and began making their way to dinner.
04:45
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/19/2023 01:21
The disappointment raging within his chest burned with such ferocity that it distracted his ability to study any sort of historical text. After a few moments of chewing on that finger he abandoned his place atop the pedestal and instead spent his remaining time just hovering about the library. Sometimes just being surrounded by the collection of literature worked to ground his racing thoughts, and he knew by now that not getting ahead of the rushing would just lead to some sort of depressive episode. His moral compass was stuck whirling over whether or not it was appropriate to use his status to rob a young woman of youth in order to fulfill his own lack of life. If she flirts back and plays the game is there any crime? If they are both consenting adults is there any harm done? His consciousness was prodding him with how he would feel if it was some middle aged prince trying to sex up one of his sisters, and that had his eyes rolling so hard that planets likely realigned. He wanted to arrive at the dining room somewhat early as already being there seemed less awkward than getting there after she did. Jittery nervousness had his mind completely possessed because the trip from the library to the dining hall had not even registered in his mind, and the journey involved moving to the first floor. Staff already had the triple set of tall double doors propped open to the dining area, and as he was entering people fluttered about preparing the redwood table for the meal. Blue napkins were already folded in cute arrangements about the space, and Andrei made a point to approach the house manager later and thank him for such astute research. He wished the crystal windows could be open for the gorgeous view they presented of the palace gardens, but winter’s assault of their keep had wooden shutters closed both inside and outside.
01:21
. Powerful aromas filled the lower floor with an ocean of mouth watering teases, and the strongest hints were of roasted duck and onions. Andrei was scanning the room for his brother, but so far the only person here outside palace workers was the stone carver from Chile. Just as he was about to introduce himself to the visiting artist the stranger stuck his nose into a smart phone and the prince just stood hovering in the posh space awkwardly. He straightened the broach secured to his suit collar before clasping his hands behind him and turning to study a large painting that hung near the entrance of the area. It depicted a frozen lightning strike just as it impacted an ancient tree. The plant was detonating in a shower of flaming wood chips, and Andrei always got stuck on this piece puzzled over why the painter had chosen to depict the fire as white instead of the typical red hot. Every time he brought it up to someone they just blew him off about the topic so once again he stood silently pondering the frustrating installation while waiting for his guests to show up. Already again fantasies of the stupid woman were rolling around his usually disciplined mind, and now the tall man stood fuming in silence. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/19/2023 01:45
Imogene followed Joseph down the palace steps towards the dining room. Surprisingly, the two didn’t get lost. They walked into the large dining room, and Imogene was immediately entranced by the smells. The number one reason Imogene traveled? Food. She was practically vibrating with excitement, and Joseph could tell. If there was a fan club for Anthony Bourdain, you might as well consider Imogene the president of it. Her excitement, however, was quickly halted when she saw the prince. He was wearing blue. Saint-Pierre blue. And that’s when it dawned on Imogene what color she was wearing. A deadly glare fell upon Joseph. “What’s wrong, your highness?” He choked out, québécois accent thick. “You dressed me in red.” “It- uh, brings out your eyes?”She stepped on his foot with heavy force. Joseph bit back a scream, but still allowed a squeak to escape his mouth. ”Oh alright, it-was-your-father’s-idea-it’s-good-diplomacy—“ Imogene’s heel burrowed further into Joseph’s, causing his words to rush out in a quick whisper. She let up, removing her foot. “Next time, please inform me before you dress me in this horrid nation’s colors. Got it?” Joseph nodded as Imogene spoke in a barely audible whisper. ”Well then! If it isn’t Prince Andrei!” Imogene glided over to where the prince was standing. It physically pained her to not roll her eyes at how gorgeous he looked in blue. Ugh. She tried not to gag at how pathetic she’d gotten. ”What’s got you so puzzled, Your Highness? This..” A painting? Of a tree… on fire from lightning? Dagria had horrible taste in art. ”Lovely painting! It’s really stunning. I love the colors.” Stupid stupid pathetic girl. Just shut up and let’s get dinner over. She tried not to tap her toes, awaiting his response.
01:45
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/19/2023 15:26
The history of the perplexing brushing of colors fluttered his mind like pollen in sunshine. The artist had died in an accident before it could be finished, and someone had completed the work for them posthumously. Anyone else it may itch a feeling of guilt to know the painting was illegally transported and acquired by auction, but to Andrei it only swelled tiny feelings of pride for it to be his. Two wires were inches from crossing in his mind, but the pair of voices floating from the entryway told him that the focus was soon to end. Don’t turn to look at her, prattled about the halls of his head in an echoing fashion. Then it was just desperate second guessing that it was actually quite rude to not turn around and greet the pair, but at this point so much back and forth stupidity swirled about that he just kept staring at the painting. There were all those pressing thoughts of her after their first meeting, and now that she was actually taking up space in the same room he wished she would go talk to someone else. Apparently a lifetime of confidence was only enough to get within several feet of her body. God, it’s going to be a long six months.
15:26
. Some whispering exchange behind him convinced the prince they were passing cruel remarks over his existance, and now the paranoia had him so locked up with embarrassment he pleaded for something to push him into this picture hanging beneath the crown molding. Honestly it would probably be easier to exist as a hunk of living wood exploding into fiery chunks, because at least then he would stop feeling this aggravating paralyzing stroking in his back whenever the visitor got close. ‘What’s got you so puzzled...’ Five words into the exchange and his eyes already rolled with private sarcasm. Andrei was stuck wondering while trying to formulate words if it was just that pitifully easy for Imogene to walk around and chat people up. Does a woman's mind ever sprint circles in despair over thinking moves like this, or is that just a solo curse that the prince carries around? Either prospect terrified him equally so he gave up on trying to figure it out. The way her voice trailed off after the introduction had him folding his lips to suppress a sly smile. Is my taste in art really that bad? Switching his weight off his bad leg a phantom bolt of pain shot into non-existent toes. He had no choice but to sigh and accept that every ailment seemed to be poking at him today. There had yet to be moment the prince’s gaze left the painting, and this was mostly because he knew when his eyes met hers all the thoughts were going to run out his ears. ‘I love the colors.’ She had made a real mistake with that one because the man latched his claws into the statement.
15:26
. “The artist died from oxygen deprivation. Investigators thought it was from the ample supplies of paint in the small room her corpse was found in. Her husband swore until he passed of suicide that it was foul play.” The sad man’s voice trailed off while he nodded in sullen appreciation of the story. “He supposedly finished the painting for her, and I am always stuck here on why he chose to make the flames white.” Wouldn’t sadness invoke them to make it a different color? “What about chaos is beautiful or pure to a man whose life had been permanently altered by discord itself?” Something heard his thinking because now another shock of pain rattled his missing limb. It was then that his gaze finally swiveled to take in the princesses’ form and his voice caught in his throat with an embarrassing hiccup. Just the tiniest bit of frizz was draped about her swirling coat of hair, and the dress she wore would make any member of the local state have a stroke. The smile that crossed his face was bordering on sadistic. God, she was stunningly beautiful, and her choice to match the colors of his country had him feeling much less foolish for his own suit hue. Struggling for a compliment Andrei just dumped the first one that crossed his mind, “You are a breath stealer aren’t you... your highness?” There was barely an inquisitive intonation to the statement, and the title was added in just enough time for it to almost not be awkward. The smell of her overpowered the aroma of dinner in his head, and the musk combined with fruit and flowers made him wish for a cane to lean on. At least it would make a nice story for her to tell friends that her appearance made the old prince keel over dead in his own dining room. While waiting for the beautiful girl to answer Andrei focused his entire attention on not passing out. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/19/2023 15:54
Oh joy, he’s into painting. Imogene never liked painting. Her sisters did it, Maman did it some, it was never her thing. She liked life. So she did photography. But as Imogene listened to the Prince speak, she cocked her head to side, trying to absorb his words, studying the painting. He started talking about flames. No, Imogene, he doesn’t want to hear you babble. That’s embarrassing. “Well, uh, actually, Your Highness, white flames are fairly hot. So, it actually makes sense. Heat correlates with passion, and I guess chaos, and so it make sense to use white flames. A-at least to me. Sorry if I overstepped.”* The last part was a shy, hesitant remark. Imogene always got scolded by her father when she went on her long, drawn out rants. Maman loved it, though. She was snapped back to reality when the man complimented her. She squeaked. Oh god. She hoped that the Dagrian men didn’t talk about her squeak. The little noise she made anytime she felt caught off guard. Stone faced, completely serious (but melting underneath), Imogene replied curtly and politely: “Thank you, Your Highness. I have an inhaler, if it becomes too much of an issue.” Was she truly Imogene if she didn’t have a witty thing to end her responses with? Nevertheless, it was time for dinner.
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Andrei Sibirsky BOT 06/19/2023 18:08
The princesses’ statement had been a paradoxical gem encrusted puzzle box that no matter how many pieces of it he worked loose another one would magically take its place after turning it over again. Despite the short time to do so he made his best effort to unpack it. The initial points about heat and passion were brushed off as simpler observations, but it took him a moment to realize his reaction was over the fact he had not come up with the idea first. He had wanted to say something about how art is not as objective, and that there was likely a deeper metaphorical reasoning to the swapping of tones. However it only occurred to him then that the husband had not been an artist, but a degree carrying man of science. A bomb of appreciation leveled his cool demeanor at her observation, and already several other pieces in the palace flashed through his mind he wanted her input on. He kicked himself for being so dismissive at first. Andrei likely would have praised her then for the satisfying conclusion to a year long plague that had shaken his mind every time he saw the painting, but the conversation progressed too fast.
18:08
. The prince turned to face her fully when the apology rolled out of her cute head, and he titled his own neck a degree while wearing a sad frown. For a fleeting moment the man considered prying into the insecurity, but he shook the silly thought from his mind when he realized just how inappropriate it would be. Normally a member of staff would be scolded or coached on such an obvious display of self doubt, but it just churned up pure feelings of sadness to see the beautiful woman doubt such an astute point. A high pitched tiny ring shuddered out of her throat, and the prince straightened his look at the perverse line of sweat it generated in the center of his back. Then a quip about an inhaler assaulted the poor man’s ruined psyche, and a thumb shot to the corner of his lip to steal away a drop of saliva that almost sprung free. Get me out of here. Time and chance saved him from having to formulate a response to the flirt, because now a chiming chorus of small bells rang from the far side of the room announcing the meal. Attendants seemed to appear from thin air out of many doors and a humming of voices was directing everyone to their seat. At some point Alexei had joined the small crowd of people, and his knowing smile flashed across the room where the older prince stood with his pointless crush. After a wink from the younger brother the prince brushed a feather light palm into the small of Imogene's back and pointed with a long arm to the other side of the dark red tabletop, “They will have you over there your highness,” after removing his hand to not overstay the pleasant gesture, “They will have us seated by succession on this side, so likely you will be across from Alexei and I.” Had he had a chance to introduce himself to the guest yet? Andrei hoped not because surely all his chances would be ruined if it was true. Perhaps that was why his brother had winked so devilishly?
18:09
. Andrei made his way to the last chair on the closest side of the table, and peered curiously at the head seat. Where was dad? Something important the King had said to him earlier tugged at his mind, but the full memory couldn’t bother being summoned. He thought of asking Dawson, but the large man had yet to make an appearance. Why was today so weird? The cross man sat drumming his nervous fingers over the table top while staff worked to get everyone situated. Alexei clasped his hands onto both of his older brother’s blue shoulders, and rubbed a few painful massages into them. The princess was still near the other end of the table, and had yet to work up the other side to her seat across where Andrei sat now. The younger man spoke down into Andrei’s ear, “Pictures don’t do her justice, and that is saying something.” Suddenly Imogene’s eyes caught them both peering from across the room at her, and both men shot their glances away rather suspiciously to the opposite end. “Smooth.” Was all the older prince could manage to squeeze out past the mischievous smile. Finally Alexei joined the seat to his right, and they both sat embarrassed waiting for things to settle in. @eve
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Princess Imogene BOT 06/19/2023 19:39
Imogene studied the Prince. He was… pathetic, like Hugo had said. But in some sick, endearing way. She shook her head softly. The bells snapped her out of whatever daze she was in. She shuddered as the Prince’s hand was rested at the lower part of her back. ’Don’t go there, you idiot, don’t even let those thoughts slip your mind…’ Imogene started muttering a quick Hail Mary, in Latin, a way to purify her brain of the thoughts that lingered on the horizon. She tried to listen to Prince Andrei’s instructions, and all she could provide as a reply was nods. ”Right. That makes sense.” She was able to choke out words once his hand was gone. Alexei…. That must be the younger one. She studied his face. She couldn’t make much out from a distance. And in an instance, Andrei was gone. She studied the boys, who were over by the table. They were glaring at her, and for once, it didn’t bring her that same satisfaction stares and eyes on her normally did. She looked at Joseph, who was a few feet behind her. ”We should sit.” He grabbed her hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. ”You know, Dearest, I thought you’d spend all night flirting and it would ruin your appetite. Guess I was wrong, hm?” Imogene stepped on his foot, a quick and painful warning. She practically dragged him over to the table, like a mother cat drags her kitten. If the line of succession thing was the same for her side of the table, she’d be… directly across from Andrei. Terrific. But luckily, Joseph was able to sit next to her. Good. This would be good. If Andrei could shut his pathetic mouth. And stop breathing. And, better yet, stop existing, so Imogene isn’t constantly puzzled by the man.
19:39
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