kittencafe | Necessitas is the mother of frustration

Necessitas is the mother of frustration

Her parents are actually going through with this. Carolina has negotiated and argued for countless hours now, only to find out that they signed the treaty behind her back. Never mind that she will one day rule the country of Necessitas in her mother's place. She's being married off like chattel to a man who cares more about his profligate affairs with various lovers than about his own kingdom.

Some stories call him a demon. Carolina is already convinced he's a monster.

She won't weep. Not in front of the court. But when she sweeps into the privacy of her own room, angry tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "This is wrong," she whispers.

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For those Delta has to beam. Those sound amazing. "Logic based riddles or those based on local knowledge? What are the linguistic differences? Oh please, I would enjoy those."

"Both," Maine says. "Cultural knowledge or logic. Don't know the differences."

He's a bodyguard, not an academic. The man's enthusiasm makes his expression soften, though.

Oh. His face is nice when it's not hard.

He doesn't even know that he speaks the words even as he thinks them, just continues on with what he means to say.

"I would prefer logic based puzzles. It is something I pride upon."

"Would you consider a test?" he asks. "To see what the challenges will be like." And to assure the judges he can compete.

"Of course," Delta smiles. "It is only right to make sure you have competitors who will enhance, not diminish things."

"This afternoon?" He doesn't have the challenges on hand. The judges like to give those in person. "I can escort you."

"It would be a true pleasure," Delta smiles and nods. "I want to prove myself."

Maine can empathize with that. "Meet at your suite?"

He could have Daphne escort him, but that might blow her cover.

"Of course," Delta smiles. "Should I have a selection of foods sent for the testers?"

"Foods? Why?" Is this a ritual from his nation, or a bribe?

Delta pauses, looking at the man in shock. "Well, it is customary that when one invites guests, especially when asking them to come out of their way for a favor, to provide light refreshments."

Plus the custom that sharing food together under one's roof makes the person visiting an honor guest, and to bring harm upon that household during their stay would bring down the retribution of the gods. But he supposes that might not be a tradition here, if they even worship the same deities. Strange how he didn't think to look into religious customs here.

"You're our guest." Does that mean he should be providing food? This isn't a usual tradition in Necessitas. If anything, it reminds him of home, and the old tradition of bringing an animal for your host to cook.

"And you have provided us with shelter, support staff, and the kindness to welcome us into your traditions," Delta counters with a small, knowing smile. Wouldn't hurt to make the Lady, through her servant, think that she's failing somehow in the realms of courtly manners to her guests.

"As the space allotted us has been said to count as our place under our rules until such time as our departure or an agreement otherwise, then welcoming those individuals necessary into our space to judge my skill means that I have a host duty to them to see that they want for neither food nor drink while they are present."

This sounds far too complicated. There's a reason Maine gave up leadership of his House, and it's that diplomacy bored him.

"If you'd like." It's best to just let people do what makes them happy. He might bring something too, though. If he can convince the palace chef to make a few treats for him.

"And will you join them?" Delta asks. "If so I should have something appropriate for you."

And maybe he just wants an excuse to talk to this man for a bit longer.

"I can." Carolina would be glad to have him observe. He won't have to make excuses, and the judges may feel more comfortable with him at hand. "I'll eat anything."

"Then I shall see that there is something. When should the be arranged?"

"Late afternoon?" he asks. "When our lieges meet for their afternoon tour of the grounds."

"Alright," Delta nods with a smile. "I shall await your presence, and that of your esteemed judges."

---

Sure enough, he finds himself preparing the space just before the agreed upon time. A meal has been sent to their rooms, prepared with the help of the lesser chef they had brought from home. Delta thought it only right to offer the judges a taste of the cuisine of home while welcoming them. He even sets out a warmed pitcher of spiced wine, hot and lovely to be seasoned one last time with an ice cube made of more of the wine, frozen by magic and all the better to chill to the right degree without watering the mixture.

As for Delta himself, he sets aside the heavier robes he had been wearing before. When it comes down to it, the cloth is not nearly comfortable for the situation, and at this point he's finally had a tailor finish adding pockets such as he desires to the interior sleeves of a far lighter set of sage robes. Why the thing needs to be so billowy and slightly cut open on the front he does not know. The whole thing makes him a feel a bit mindful of himself, shy even. Fashion here is weird... Well, he'll give them credit for the absolute delight that is the sandals made here with thongs that lace all the way up to the knee, but for little beyond that.

And with it all ready, Delta waits in a chair with his eyes closed, meditating upon his magic to help it fight the anxiety in his mind.

Finding the judges didn't take too long. They were more than happy to come once Maine promised them food. Maybe the little mage is onto something.

Maine leads them to the prince's suite, a small basket of pastries in hand. The baker knows what he likes. There's a good assortment of fruit, chocolate, and cream treats in here. The judges carry an array of papers--apparently an essay is involved for the preliminary testing?--and magical oddments. Maine will leave that for them.

He's just here to say hello. Knocking softly, he hesitates at the door, unwilling to come in without a welcome.

Well, that's a sign if any to rouse himself from the meditation. Delta uncurls from the seat and heads to the main door of the suite. All he has to do is remember that he is master of this domain in almost every way at this point to keep himself calm and collected as he opens the door and bows slightly to the large man there, as well as his guests.

"You do me an honor to make this time for me. Please, come in. I have arranged refreshments for us all," he greets them as he stands aside, keeping the door open wide. "If there is anything at all which you require, but speak the word and I will send someone to fetch it."

With that he looks to Maine, giving a thankful smile, which falters as he sees the little basket. Pastries? He is already almost drooling.

"Thanks." Maine enters first, habitually checking the room for threats. Not that he expects to find any. The judges follow him in, ignorant of any potential danger.

"Brought these. As a token." He sets them on the table, and the judges follow suit with their materials. Maine takes a moment to introduce them.

Delta greets each in turn, complimenting small things about their appearance or bearing, or even their lives if he has heard tell of them before, and soon he has most of the group seated and drinks being served out before he turns his attention back to Maine.

"You mean to tell me that people in this land make treats out of chocolate? We only make drinks out of it. Well, that and eat the bars of it, sweetened of course and made into little squares."

"My lady's pastry chef is very skilled," Maine says. "It is a rare treat." And an impressive one at that. But then, that's the point. Maine wants to impress him.

Impress it does, and leaves Delta a touch off balance. If he really thought about it he might find it to be the goal itself, if he can ascribed something so underhanded to this man. Then again, he does belong to the Lady, so it's entirely possible. Not that Delta's thinking about it as he looks with open desire upon the chocolate treat.

"Then I am doubly blessed to have a chance to sample it. But I fear I will be too distracted if I partake of it now. Chocolate is a rare delight back home, and to be allowed to have some a boon itself from my lord. So to sample this might find me distracted from our purpose, my lords..."

He needs to think about anything other than the chocolate right now. To taste it so soon after it was brought might make him want to reward the giver as he always did back home. And that would be massively inappropriate. Not to mention the fact that he might truly die of embarrassment to approach the man such.

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This is not a date. Maybe.

Re: This is not a date. Maybe.

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timeskip?

Absolutely. Allow me to wave a magic wand.

yay magic

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:sleepily hand-waves judge identities:

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