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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"I would be very grateful for that. Allow me to find my sandals."

Delta turns and rushes off, and a few moments later he returns, money tucked up in his sleeve and sandals on his feet. That done he closes the door behind him and smiles up at Maine.

"If you would."

He will. Maine holds the door so Delta can leave. He's accustomed to being an attractive door holder, after all.

It's nice to see the visitors acclimating, though. Better than he ever did, in fact. Maine still doesn't like sandals. Dalta makes them look comfortable, though.

Helps that Delta loves shoes, but whatever. He smiles softly at the man, still unaware of the chocolate, and gestures for Maine to proceed him. I needs to know where to go.

Then it's Maine's turn to lead. He doesn't say much (as usual), just leads Delta out of the wing and into the palace proper.

"I enjoy the colors here," Delta notes, a bit thoughtful. He can't do the silence at all. This place looks like it's meant to be filled with noise and laughter and conversation, where York's castle was a place of silence.

Maine nods. "Your prince has colors?" he asks. Visual imagery is important of most of these kingdoms, he thought.

"The royal family does," Delta allows. "The Prince uses what his tailors say he looks good in."

What Delta and SIgma say he looks good in really. And, as for himself, green is just his color. "Do... you have colors Ser maine?"

He hadn't noticed York's colors. That does make sense, Maine supposes.

"Teal and white, for my lady," Maine says. "Blue and silver, from home." Today he wears white and brown, with blue and teal embroidery on his collar and sleeves. He's proud to wear both sets.

"I think the colors of your lady were a good choice."

He looks good int he white. It radiates against his sin and Delta tries not to blush at his own comment. He definitely got a little too personal there. "Have I thanked you for the offer totake me into town?"

"I am proud to wear them." He's always glad to represent Carolina. The blue reminds him of a home he will never go back to.

"It's no trouble." Every once in awhile, Maine likes to get out of the palace. They exit now. Maine waves a farewell to the guards, who salute him back.

Delta frowns in disappointment of the security measure of the guards. They didn't stop to confirm that Maine was who he was, or to take Delta's name. After the security issues in their own land, Delta has been more edgy about such things.

And nervous as he is, he can't help but shy closer to the most secure thing around him: the bulk of the guard he is with.

"One should always have pride in their work if they can," Delta allows.

Maine is very conscious of Delta moving closer and is surprised that he doesn't mind at all. "'m lucky to serve my Lady," he says. "And proud.

"How long have you served your Prince?"

"Six years," Delta answers easily. "I was a scribe and tutor, selected to improve his skills in certain areas. I was elevated to his servant later on."

Six years is a long time. Longer than Maine has been in his lady's service, in fact. "Tutor? What do you teach him?"

He's not unfamiliar with tutors. York doesn't seem to mind his; Maine finds he doesn't mind Delta, either. Not at all.

"It would be inappropriate to give the secret of my Lord's academic weaknesses, ser. You will not have them from me, not even for all the chocolate you possess."

"Chocolate?"

He hadn't realized the little mage likes chocolate. Maine is rather proud of himself for getting that right on the first try.

Maybe they can buy more in the city. They've nearly reached the market.

"I could go for some now," Delta admits. The thought makes him lick his lips and discover that spot of remaining chocolate. It makes him freeze and blush. "You... you knew that was there and let me have that spot of chocolate on my face this whole time!"

"Good bakery nearby," Maine says. Its pastries aren't quite as good as the ones that the palace baker makes, but they'll do.

He freezes at that remark, though. He hadn't meant to offend. And Delta is blushing so prettily that he really doesn't know how to respond.

"Oh now everyone we passed will think me foolish," Delta bemoans, truly distraught. He's supposed to be presentable. Poised. Controlled. Dammit.

"I must go back."

"Back?" But the stall is right there!

"I looked a fool," Delta says, unfortunately self aware.

Self consciousness has reared its head and made delta nervous.

"But no one noticed." Nobody really cares. And if they did, Maine would have words with them. "You look good."

"I do?" Delta asks, blushing again. Does he? Does he care that the man thinks so?

Demos help him, he does. IT makes him feel warm.

"Yeah." He looks far more comfortable in the local dress than most of the men he came with. What's not to find good?

"Really?" Delta can't help but say again. He tries to stop the blushing. "Uh, lead on."

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Necessitas is the mother of frustration

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