the bug prince

only a fool persists in error. twenty-four. unmarried. third son of dashkov. loyal to tsesarevich dimitri II member of FOR THE CROWN. played by Jillian.

[elliotsowen-hasmoved-blog-deact]

[cwhqadverts-blog]

Perplexity etched as finely as the diaphanous strokes of Feofan Grek’s filigreed canvases on the plains of Eva’s features, twisting rose bud lips into a scowl as her arms lowered. ‘Shut up? Is that any way to speak to a woman – stranger no less? I ought to adjure the removal of your tongue from your jaw for speaking so.’ In spite of her anger, her words are spoken as tranquilly and levelheaded ad infinitum, as though only moderately perturbed by his words. ‘Though it would behove both of us to send for your physician.’

[borislavdashkov-blog]

“Nu-now I see you tu-take the role of a wu-wife with your nagging.” Borislav grumbled, sinking against the man propping him up, who now had to work in ernest. “Is thu-that any way to speak to a mu-man?”

A hard pain shot through his uninjured side, the servant muttering a quick apology as readjusted his position. “I fu-fine, thu-thank you.” Gritting his teeth, the young Dashkov did his best to stand on his own.

[cwhqadverts-blog]

Nose furled at the stench issuing from the approaching man, Eva soon protruded dainty hands –– a warning sign to remain where he was. ‘I am no servant, nor am I a mule. Were I, I would still admonish you against taking another chalice. You are certainly crapulous, my lord.’

[borislavdashkov-blog]

The momentary distraction was all the distraction the Dashkov manservant needed, coming to grip his master’s failing form as the young man tried to focus on who spoke. 

“Another?” Borislav mourned.  “I hu-haven’t even had one in -- ... at lu-east a week. I’ve been sick. And you’re nu-not my mu-mother anyway, so. Shu-shut up.”

The manservant’s face pinched in sympathy embarrassment.

[borislavdashkov-blog]

Stumbling forward, arm curled protectively about his injured gut, Borislav escaped his apartment. Wrenching away from the manservant as much as it tore at his gash, he spat, “I wu-will find du-drink on my own, if you shu-shan’t bring it,” anger weakened heavily by desperation.

[countofpavlov]

“Yes, yes, VERY. You are not married, are you, my lord?”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

“Nu-no. Can’t outdu-do my elder bru-others, after all.” Fidgeting, he looked away, not bothering to mention most fathers didn’t even look at him as a possible groom. What might these girls be like if Pavlov was pressuring him?

[grandprincessmarina-blog]

Marina hadn’t had a moment to herself in days, constantly entertaining well-wishers who only wanted to discuss her engagement, her wedding, and worse, her marriage. It was going to be a long time before she could speak to anyone without feeling like she was lying or wearing a mask, but there was one person she knew she could speak to, one she assumed hadn’t heard the news yet. After asking about him in the last place she’d seen him, Marina found herself being announced at his chamber door, nodding her thanks to his servant. “Boris,” she said as she entered, moving closer to his bed, “I feared the worst when you weren’t where I left you. You should have told me you were moved. Are you feeling better?”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

To be cloistered in his room was far from the painful experience that Borislav thought it might be in the early hours of his confinement. Yes, there was a distinct lack of company but he was too tired to face the hordes of other courtiers at the moment. In the privacy of his apartments there were less expectations, less pressure. He could read his books in peace and fall asleep whenever he wanted.

The fever that raged had lessened and his wound looked a bit less ghastly but any moment to rest was welcomed. 

Unless of course that moment was replaced with the opportunity to see the Grand Princess, her sweet face appearing after calling his name (sort of) and he despaired that he looked so out of place. “Oh um, ru-right, of course, bu-but I’ve had this fever you seen,” Borislav began prattling. “Th-though I’m doing su-splendidly now.” His raspy voice pulled into a wobbly smile. “Hu-how do you fu-fare, Princess?”

[grandprincessmarina-blog]

“Shhh,” she said, reaching out to turn the rag over on his forehead. Marina lowered her hand on his arm, pulling his hand into her lap by his wrist. She slipped her fingers through his and gave him a comforting squeeze, letting her thumb rub against his hand. “You don’t have to be so modest, Boris, you can take some credit now and then. Just relax, I’m here to make you feel better, not worse.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

How could he possibly relax with her tender face above him, and her soft hands holding his? “Su-sorry,” he muttered, eyes captivated by her expression but fluttering as sleep crept up to hold him tightly. “Hu-how kind, Pu-princess.”

[grandprincessmarina-blog]

“Well, I cannot say I would take a stab for any of my brothers,” she teased playfully, winking at him as she smiled. “

[borislavdashkov-blog]

Abashment lept onto his face, the sick coil of shame of misunderstanding, and delight at her wink sending his stomach twisting. “Oh, um, nu-no. I wu-was caught unaware.”

[countofpavlov]

“Yes, yes. They’re all very lively, very lovely. My eldest most so. She has inherited everything from her mother — very blessed indeed.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

“Of course,” Borislav grit, trying to hide his utter boredom. “Chu-charming, the lu-lot of them, surely.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

How pathetic it was he hadn’t even the strength to return his brother’s affectionate gesture! Closing his eyes, Borislav merely nodded, Konstantin’s warm hand a lifeline of hope and acceptance. How long had it been since he’d had a drink?

Too long. 

Yet he did not bother asking his brother for one, planning to wait until he was gone and then badgering one of the frantic servants, assured they’d be all too happy to fulfill such a simple request with all the mess around them. “Hu-hurry,” was all he said, before falling silent, letting fever-sleep take him once more.

[konstantin-dashkov]

Konstantin watched as Boris drifted off before sighing softly and shaking his head. He pushed himself up from beside his bed and went to find a pair of servants to help move Boris back to their appartments as soon as possible. 

[royalreyna-blog]

“I suppose we’re all fools in one way or another.” Admittedly, it was heartwarming to have someone show so much unabashed worry for her. So heartwarming in fact, that Sofiya had to swallow a lump in her throat. “If it’s any comfort for your nerves, the guards are highly trained and unshakably dedicated.”

It was a relief that Borislav’s struggling had ceased almost completely. Content that he wasn’t going to get up and hurt himself further, Sofiya settled back in her chair. “Shall I get some parchment and charcoal? We could work on a sketch together.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

His nerves were not comforted ; in fact, it felt as if his heart may very well burst from his chest, do a spiteful jig on his ribs and scream loudly into his ear until he died. Borislav, sadly, did not feel this to be out of the realm of possibility, given his life history.

Tears continued to roll down his pale cheeks.

Sofiya pulled away, but he caught her hand and clutched it wearily, closing his eyes and waiting for the tremors to settle. “Didn’t see. I du-didn’t see.” Panic and darkness had made excellent distractions though the voice was familiar and the posture of his opponent too confident to be a lowly farmer. 

Borislav shivered as his memory brushed against the incident, something niggling at his brain but shoved away in distaste. “Pu-please,” he begged his sister. “Tell me hu-hu-happy things as I fu-fall asleep again.”

[royalreyna-blog]

To say Sofiya was taken aback by her brother’s sudden mood change was an understatement. Just seconds ago they were smiling about her newfound freedom yet Borislav had turned so quickly. Like a storm cloud that blocked the sun. “I’ll thank you not to call me a fool, brother, for I am anything but.” The claim was up for debate, but pride compelled the Countess to make it regardless.

“If you must know, I had already set off for Kaborg when I received word of the attacks and your injury. But even if I hadn’t, I would have brought the children anyway.” Sofiya tilted her chin defiantly. “I wasn’t about to leave them there with the servants, and I couldn’t remain there any longer. I needed to see something other than the walls of the Belyakov home, as do my children. Sergei is sheltered enough as it is thanks to his oaf of a father.” Sofiya took a deep breath and tried to soften her harsh tone. She didn’t want her meeting with Boris after they had been apart for so long to be filled with fighting, but the Countess was easily riled.

Sofiya swiftly removed herself from her brother’s grasp, not a difficult task given his weakened state. Once free, she gently albeit forcefully pushed Boris back into his seat. “Now who is being the fool? You are in no fit state to be getting up of your own accord! You are going to reopen the wound. Sit still, and tell me who hurt you to begin with.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

“Yu-you are one,” he lamented sadly, voice torn with unshed and fearful tears. Borislav shook his head adamantly, the room swimming in warning as he tried to deny her actions. It was far too late, but sense had little hold with him now as his heart was gripped with all-consuming panic. 

How was it that she should come here? Now? Aleksei and Konstantin were more than capable of handling themselves, he, just barely, but what might Sofiya do were the castle to to be taken?

Borislav’s breath caught. The thought of it was too much and her reason and logic was resisted by anxiety and dread. As his sister impressed him back upon the sickbed, he stared at her, wide-eyed and gasping. His head shook more. “Du-don’t know. A man.” 

[konstantin-dashkov]

He frowned at the obvious upset and shook his head quickly. “Boris, stop, it’s fine,” He said, taking his hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “I’m fine. Completely,” He promised. 

He looked around them, hating the fact that his brother was surrounded by dead and dying men. “Sleep, then,” He said finally, looking back at him and giving a smile. “I’ll have them move you back to your bed and you can get well there, alright?”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

How pathetic it was he hadn’t even the strength to return his brother’s affectionate gesture! Closing his eyes, Borislav merely nodded, Konstantin’s warm hand a lifeline of hope and acceptance. How long had it been since he’d had a drink?

Too long. 

Yet he did not bother asking his brother for one, planning to wait until he was gone and then badgering one of the frantic servants, assured they’d be all too happy to fulfill such a simple request with all the mess around them. “Hu-hurry,” was all he said, before falling silent, letting fever-sleep take him once more.

[royalreyna-blog]

Sofiya’s hard gaze roamed over Boris;av’s face, noting his paler than usual complexion and the dark circles under his eyes. Her brother was a shadow of the man she’d last seen over a year ago. At the mention of her late husband, the Countess leaned in close and smiled, her eyes shone with a sparkle that had been absent for many years. “Yes, Boris. It’s good. Very good.” There was not point in playing the role of heartbroken wife around one of the few people who knew how deeply she’d despised Arkady. It was a moment where she could happily do away with pretenses.

“Of course I brought them, I couldn’t in good conscience keep them from seeing you and Konstantin, now could I? Also, I think it is high time Aleksei met them.” Mention of her older brother brought a frown to her pretty features, she often found herself hurt by the fact he had never paid her a visit during her marriage. “Try not to worry, we were accompanied by a sizable host of guards. Oh Boris, you should see Elvira now. She is so big, and even conversing with people.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

To see such joy on his sister’s face, Borislav was able to summon up a ghostly smile, minuscule and fleeting but there all the same. He gave her a nod, hand seeking hers to offer comfort and understanding. “I’m gu-glad,” came his offer. Had he not lived underneath the room of domineering men? Did he not understand being trodden upon? That Sofiya now had such freedom from her husband made his sickened heart lighter with the news. 

Which, upon the further news his sister’s children were at court, sank right back into disheartened panic. “Fu-fool,” he cried in pain, trying to push away from his lounge. “It’s not safe. Even with guards, oh, Sofiya, du-did you not know what happened? Lu-look at me and, ah, what chance might chu-children have if violence comes again?”

Grabbing at her arms, he ignored the news of his niece’s growth and charms, impressed with worry. “Gu-go home.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

Kkonstantin-dashkov:

He couldn’t help the hurt that coursed through him at his brother’s insistence and lack of allowance. “I know you’re not a baby, Boris, but you’re hurt,” He said, rolling his eyes and batting away his hand. “And I am not wasting time on you. There are very few I  like to spend my time on in this world and you are one of them. Do not take away the one thing I do best,” He said, his words clipped but his tone soft. 

He had meant to be self-loathing, to insist to his brother he was worth nothing but oh, how hard it was when such kind words kept what confidence he had clinging to the surface of hope. “Su-sorry,” he gulped with a quiet sob, moving his weakened hand over his mouth to stifle the crying.

Others may, but when Aleksei was always so strong and stalwart, how could Borislav even think of crying? At least, in public. He did not shy away from the fact he’d sobbed many a night by himself, cradled in booze’s loving embrace.  “Hu-how are you? Du-did I ask thu-that? I can’t remember.” 

A few tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. “I’m tired, Kostya.”

[royalreyna-blog]

Hearing that her little brother had such difficulty voicing a simple sentence, worry clutched Sofiya’s heart even tighter in it’s embrace. She pressed a hand to her chest as she regarded Borislav for several moments, charmed considerably by how happy he seemed because of her presence, but wary of his sickly pallor.

“Brother.” Sofiya moved forward and pushed a chair closer to the window so she could sit by his side. When he asked why she was here, it struck the Countess that Boris might not have heard about her husband’s fate due to him being bed-bound and delirious. “You haven’t heard then? Boris, Arkady… He’s dead.”

[borislavdashkov-blog]

His blinks were long and sluggish, eyes focusing tiredly on Sofiya as she had a chair procured, joining him by the window. A rippling intake of breath forced its way into his lips, tears lining the edge of his lashes as he regarded his sister. A lump formed in his throat as he shook his head. 

A moment was needed to dislodge the tightness before Borislav was able to speak. “Is thu-that good?” he whispered. “Yu-you didn’t, um, lu-like him, yes?”

He could not see his servants from the lounge but hoped they would not hear. “Whu-what, ah, of the ch-children? Pu-please tell me yu-yu-...they didn’t come with you?”

[royalreyna-blog]

There was little question of which brother Sofiya would seek out as soon as she saw her children settled in their rooms. Aleksei and Konstantin would keep, but news of Borislav’s injury had recently reached her ears and the Countess was eager to see the state he was in. He was alive at least, that much she knew for sure. How well he was clinging to life was a matter more shrouded in uncertainty.

Sofiya bid her children a quick goodbye before departing on her search. It had been twenty years or so since she’d been inside the palace, so she had forgotten it’s layout. It wasn’t until the Countess came across a servant that she started to make any real progress.

Sofiya was swiftly lead to Borislav’s location and eagerly pushed past the servant to swing the door open, not bothering to knock. It had been about three years since she laid eyes on his face.

“I’ve seen better.” She breathed a sigh of relief in seeing that his grasp on life was not so tenuous.

[borislavdashkov-blog]

Having spent long hours trapped in fever, Borislav did not immediately register the presence of his sister. Her specter was not as common as that of their mother, yet still Sofiya’s image had come to him in the heat. That’s all she was now, he was assured. Travel was becoming increasingly dangerous and why on earth would she risk coming here of all places?

The battle...! That was evidence enough Kaborg was not wholly safe. Her breath, perfume, and the rustle of her skirts was all ignored as he continued to survey the view from his window, wishing that he might escape to it. A bird swept gracefully through the air, twittering as it chased something Borislav could not see.

Then, his sister spoke.

Lifting his head, the young Dashkov did his best to turn from where he’d been propped, eyes widening in delight at the sight of Sofiya. “Su-sister,” he croaked. “Whu-...what are you du-doing here?”