You may call me Prince, Highness, Lord, Liege, Princely Grace, or any other appropriate title. This blog stands as a tribute to my deep and abiding adoration of all things noble and fantastical, but most especially to my love of knights and queer courtly romance.
Be warned, this space is a mature forum that will contain content unsuitable for children, both explicit and implied. Whilst it is my preference that any minors who stumble across my page promptly remove themselves, I will sentence any I discover who defy my wishes with a permanent banishment from my presence.
Furthermore, my Principate stands staunchly against all forms of Generative AI. I shall do my due diligence to keep all such filth from besmirching this forum, but I ask my loving citizens to inform me if any manages to breech my defenses so that I might send it back into the void from whence it slithered.
OOC Sideblog: @fruityprincelingooc
Character Details and Art Credits below the cut
Given Name + Titles: His Royal Highness and Princely Grace Arsène Étienne, Sole Sovereign of the Principality of Pavon and Crown Prince to the Kingdom of Laplace
Nicknames: The Prince, Princeling, Prince Arsène, Arsène
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: Early 30's
Sexuality / Romantic Feelings: Bi, with a strong Gay lean (shoot your shot, see what happens)
Intimate Proclivities: Vers / Generally leans Dominant, but could Switch if the vibes are right
[I'm not going to list kinks, etc here because I prefer to negotiate those boundaries on a case by case basis. Please just message me directly if you have questions about preferred language/terms, anatomy, activities you're interested in exploring, etc. We're both adults and I'm generally pretty chill, promise.]
This character doesn't have a tremendous amount of set lore as I didn't originally intend for this to be an RP blog, (Whoops) so is in a state of ongoing development.
Worth noting in particular is that even though he styles himself as a Prince, he's functionally the King of his nation: the Principality of Pavon. He rules there under his own authority and with no sovereign above him. His status as Crown Prince of Laplace is in addition to his current seat.
Officially advised by @your-evil-adviser. Prince Arsène has great admiration and respect for Perroy, but is not particularly possessive of his time and attention, who in turn would describe the Prince as "a charmingly lascivious menace with an ego to match".
Art Credits:
First Border Illustration by Md. shariful islam on Unsplash
Second Border Illustration by Mari on Tumblr
Banner Photo by Tim Rebkavets on Unsplash
Personal Icon Photo by Carlos N. Cuatzo Meza on Unsplash
the pouch on Sir Gills's belt clinks merrily with their winnings from the second round of the joust. it's the most coin they've had at their disposal--which is to say, any--in recent memory, and suddenly the responsibility of it weighs as heavily as any burden. they need to spend it wisely.
they need an outfit for the masquerade.
market street is lively and colorful and perhaps a bit noisier than Gills is yet accustomed to. there are so many vendors and things for sale, it's almost overwhelming. fresh fruit from the orchards, fragrant and juicy-looking. heavenly-smelling bread and pastries. beautifully-fletched arrows. jewelry fit for a queen or for a mighty dragon's hoard. (they do, briefly, double back to the stall selling pastries and buy a honey cake so tender and moist it practically dissolves on their tongue, and bursting with such spice and sweetness that they almost have to stifle a moan.)
all right, they think, licking the last of the crumbs from their fingers. focus.
the tailor is easy to find, brightly-dyed garments waving in the gentle summer breeze like flags. Gills pours over the selection, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than ever. there are just... so many things. they pick a few more-or-less at random to look at more closely. a dark red tunic embroidered with silver, that's always in fashion. or a fitted pale-blue shirt with ivory buttons--clean and daring, but does it really suit them?
they sigh, returning both of them to the table. next to them, a well-dressed passer-by is pausing to examine the outfits on display, and Gills watches them for a moment, hoping for inspiration.
Prince Arsène feels the weight of the knight's gaze upon him, and turns to look at them. Realization dawns on his face and lights it up with a bright smile.
"Why, Sir Gills, isn't it?! The plucky underdog who surprised us all at the joust! How utterly marvelous to meet you here. Looking to spend your hard won coin, are you?"
The Prince offers Sir Gills a friendly wink then turns his eye to the items the knight was just handling.
"Ah! I see you have a fine eye for material. I'd steer clear of the lighter blue though, it would only wash you out and undercut your healthy glow. The red would suit your coloring better, so striking against that lovely dark hair of yours."
Arsène hadn't truly expected to run into anyone while perusing the local marketplace, he'd simply hoped to stretch his legs and had wandered into the tailor's on a lark. It seemed that the gods had chosen to favor him though, for wasn't this a serendipitous meeting? The knight was largely unknown to him, but the prince made it his business to let no one of consequence remain out of his acquaintance for long.
Gill's eyes grow wide as the prince--there are a lot of princes around, but they've finally started fitting faces to names (and surnames and titles and all the many other things one needs to remember when it comes to these things)--practically lights up like the full moon. they certainly didn't expect to be recognized by name, nor complimented at all, really. as if that weren't enough, Arsène winks, and a faint blush starts to surface beneath their tan and freckles.
"I--thank you, Your Highness," they answer with a blink, then smile. "Yes, I'm looking for something to wear to the masquerade and I am a... a bit out of my depth. Horses or swords, I can judge, but..."
Gills has known a few royals who would take grave offense to even the tamest flirtation from a lowly knight, but... well, even a prince shouldn't swing a sword around if he isn't willing to be cut. "On matters of fashion, I'll gladly defer to those most elegantly dressed."
Prince Arsène's smile curls from friendly to something just shy of predatory as Sir Gills volleys a compliment back at him. A serendipitous meeting, indeed.
He leans into the knight's space a bit further, lowering his voice to a more intimate volume. "Careful there. I'm afraid flattery will get you everywhere, my dear champion." His tone is playful and gently teasing, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of enticement.
Arsène then leans back and resumes his previous jovial manner.
"So you're costume shopping then, how delightful! I am, of course, more than happy to render any aid I can so such a worthy cause. Tell me, do you have a theme in mind?"
the prince's breath suddenly brushes very near their ear and the sensitive skin of their neck, and Gills suppresses a tiny shiver. this is an interesting development to be sure; they'd assumed the flirtation was for its own sake, a bit of playfulness, but Arsène's quiet words and the purr of his voice seem to promise much more, and it'd be a bald-faced lie if Gills said they weren't at least curious. their smile is subtler as they exchange a furtive glance, but pleased nonetheless.
"In truth, I haven't even thought ahead that far," they reply, holding onto the red tunic and running their thumb over a part of the embroidery. it's done with such skill, and they do like the colors. "Simply choosing an outfit is hard enough when one spends most of their time in the same suit of armor. I don't imagine Your Highness can relate," they add with a slightly more playful smile. "Of course, I'd be most grateful for whatever suggestions Your Highness wishes to share."
Prince Arsène's eyes travel assessingly over knight, making note of their coloring, general build, and distinguishing features.
He hums contemplatively for a moment and brings a slender hand up to tap against the fullness of his bottom lip as he considers suitable options. Finally, a thought occurs and his mouth curls into a smug grin.
"You know, I think I have just the thing."
He reaches out and allows his fingers to brush against Sir Gill's hands as he gently plucks the crimson tunic from their grip and holds it out against the knight's chest, estimating the fit.
their body feels warm under the prince's keen gaze, even with the layers of cloth and steel between them. (ever since last night, they haven't felt exactly comfortable without at least some armor on, even though they figure the odds of--well, whatever it was--finding them so close to the castle in broad daylight is slim.) they swear that some of the mushrooms tucked in the gaps of their pauldrons imitate a swoon, but would much rather think about the delicate tips of Arsène's fingers or the plushness of his lips--
"A dragon!" they bring the hand that Arsène had so briefly touched to their face, half-covering a soft laugh. "Ah, that's exciting! And... maybe complicated. But I'd be delighted to try. Do we start with this--" they indicate the tunic--"and then add... hm, something with scales?"
"Hm, yes.... I daresay the local armorer will have something to suit our purposes there. Oh, we're going to have so much fun, you and I. I just know it!"
With that proclamation, the Prince's mind is decided. He deftly spins himself around Sir Gills and, placing his hands firmly upon the sides of their waist just above their hips, encourages the knight towards the small changing booth in the corner.
From behind, he speaks softly into their ear again as they move. He didn't miss the way his previous proximity to their neck had elicited the tiniest hint of a reaction, and he is eager to see if it would happen again.
"While we're here though, you should try on that tunic and I'll see if there are any trousers or hose that will coordinate nicely."
the pouch on Sir Gills's belt clinks merrily with their winnings from the second round of the joust. it's the most coin they've had at their disposal--which is to say, any--in recent memory, and suddenly the responsibility of it weighs as heavily as any burden. they need to spend it wisely.
they need an outfit for the masquerade.
market street is lively and colorful and perhaps a bit noisier than Gills is yet accustomed to. there are so many vendors and things for sale, it's almost overwhelming. fresh fruit from the orchards, fragrant and juicy-looking. heavenly-smelling bread and pastries. beautifully-fletched arrows. jewelry fit for a queen or for a mighty dragon's hoard. (they do, briefly, double back to the stall selling pastries and buy a honey cake so tender and moist it practically dissolves on their tongue, and bursting with such spice and sweetness that they almost have to stifle a moan.)
all right, they think, licking the last of the crumbs from their fingers. focus.
the tailor is easy to find, brightly-dyed garments waving in the gentle summer breeze like flags. Gills pours over the selection, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than ever. there are just... so many things. they pick a few more-or-less at random to look at more closely. a dark red tunic embroidered with silver, that's always in fashion. or a fitted pale-blue shirt with ivory buttons--clean and daring, but does it really suit them?
they sigh, returning both of them to the table. next to them, a well-dressed passer-by is pausing to examine the outfits on display, and Gills watches them for a moment, hoping for inspiration.
Prince Arsène feels the weight of the knight's gaze upon him, and turns to look at them. Realization dawns on his face and lights it up with a bright smile.
"Why, Sir Gills, isn't it?! The plucky underdog who surprised us all at the joust! How utterly marvelous to meet you here. Looking to spend your hard won coin, are you?"
The Prince offers Sir Gills a friendly wink then turns his eye to the items the knight was just handling.
"Ah! I see you have a fine eye for material. I'd steer clear of the lighter blue though, it would only wash you out and undercut your healthy glow. The red would suit your coloring better, so striking against that lovely dark hair of yours."
Arsène hadn't truly expected to run into anyone while perusing the local marketplace, he'd simply hoped to stretch his legs and had wandered into the tailor's on a lark. It seemed that the gods had chosen to favor him though, for wasn't this a serendipitous meeting? The knight was largely unknown to him, but the prince made it his business to let no one of consequence remain out of his acquaintance for long.
Gill's eyes grow wide as the prince--there are a lot of princes around, but they've finally started fitting faces to names (and surnames and titles and all the many other things one needs to remember when it comes to these things)--practically lights up like the full moon. they certainly didn't expect to be recognized by name, nor complimented at all, really. as if that weren't enough, Arsène winks, and a faint blush starts to surface beneath their tan and freckles.
"I--thank you, Your Highness," they answer with a blink, then smile. "Yes, I'm looking for something to wear to the masquerade and I am a... a bit out of my depth. Horses or swords, I can judge, but..."
Gills has known a few royals who would take grave offense to even the tamest flirtation from a lowly knight, but... well, even a prince shouldn't swing a sword around if he isn't willing to be cut. "On matters of fashion, I'll gladly defer to those most elegantly dressed."
Prince Arsène's smile curls from friendly to something just shy of predatory as Sir Gills volleys a compliment back at him. A serendipitous meeting, indeed.
He leans into the knight's space a bit further, lowering his voice to a more intimate volume. "Careful there. I'm afraid flattery will get you everywhere, my dear champion." His tone is playful and gently teasing, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of enticement.
Arsène then leans back and resumes his previous jovial manner.
"So you're costume shopping then, how delightful! I am, of course, more than happy to render any aid I can so such a worthy cause. Tell me, do you have a theme in mind?"
the prince's breath suddenly brushes very near their ear and the sensitive skin of their neck, and Gills suppresses a tiny shiver. this is an interesting development to be sure; they'd assumed the flirtation was for its own sake, a bit of playfulness, but Arsène's quiet words and the purr of his voice seem to promise much more, and it'd be a bald-faced lie if Gills said they weren't at least curious. their smile is subtler as they exchange a furtive glance, but pleased nonetheless.
"In truth, I haven't even thought ahead that far," they reply, holding onto the red tunic and running their thumb over a part of the embroidery. it's done with such skill, and they do like the colors. "Simply choosing an outfit is hard enough when one spends most of their time in the same suit of armor. I don't imagine Your Highness can relate," they add with a slightly more playful smile. "Of course, I'd be most grateful for whatever suggestions Your Highness wishes to share."
Prince Arsène's eyes travel assessingly over knight, making note of their coloring, general build, and distinguishing features.
He hums contemplatively for a moment and brings a slender hand up to tap against the fullness of his bottom lip as he considers suitable options. Finally, a thought occurs and his mouth curls into a smug grin.
"You know, I think I have just the thing."
He reaches out and allows his fingers to brush against Sir Gill's hands as he gently plucks the crimson tunic from their grip and holds it out against the knight's chest, estimating the fit.
the pouch on Sir Gills's belt clinks merrily with their winnings from the second round of the joust. it's the most coin they've had at their disposal--which is to say, any--in recent memory, and suddenly the responsibility of it weighs as heavily as any burden. they need to spend it wisely.
they need an outfit for the masquerade.
market street is lively and colorful and perhaps a bit noisier than Gills is yet accustomed to. there are so many vendors and things for sale, it's almost overwhelming. fresh fruit from the orchards, fragrant and juicy-looking. heavenly-smelling bread and pastries. beautifully-fletched arrows. jewelry fit for a queen or for a mighty dragon's hoard. (they do, briefly, double back to the stall selling pastries and buy a honey cake so tender and moist it practically dissolves on their tongue, and bursting with such spice and sweetness that they almost have to stifle a moan.)
all right, they think, licking the last of the crumbs from their fingers. focus.
the tailor is easy to find, brightly-dyed garments waving in the gentle summer breeze like flags. Gills pours over the selection, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than ever. there are just... so many things. they pick a few more-or-less at random to look at more closely. a dark red tunic embroidered with silver, that's always in fashion. or a fitted pale-blue shirt with ivory buttons--clean and daring, but does it really suit them?
they sigh, returning both of them to the table. next to them, a well-dressed passer-by is pausing to examine the outfits on display, and Gills watches them for a moment, hoping for inspiration.
Prince Arsène feels the weight of the knight's gaze upon him, and turns to look at them. Realization dawns on his face and lights it up with a bright smile.
"Why, Sir Gills, isn't it?! The plucky underdog who surprised us all at the joust! How utterly marvelous to meet you here. Looking to spend your hard won coin, are you?"
The Prince offers Sir Gills a friendly wink then turns his eye to the items the knight was just handling.
"Ah! I see you have a fine eye for material. I'd steer clear of the lighter blue though, it would only wash you out and undercut your healthy glow. The red would suit your coloring better, so striking against that lovely dark hair of yours."
Arsène hadn't truly expected to run into anyone while perusing the local marketplace, he'd simply hoped to stretch his legs and had wandered into the tailor's on a lark. It seemed that the gods had chosen to favor him though, for wasn't this a serendipitous meeting? The knight was largely unknown to him, but the prince made it his business to let no one of consequence remain out of his acquaintance for long.
Gill's eyes grow wide as the prince--there are a lot of princes around, but they've finally started fitting faces to names (and surnames and titles and all the many other things one needs to remember when it comes to these things)--practically lights up like the full moon. they certainly didn't expect to be recognized by name, nor complimented at all, really. as if that weren't enough, Arsène winks, and a faint blush starts to surface beneath their tan and freckles.
"I--thank you, Your Highness," they answer with a blink, then smile. "Yes, I'm looking for something to wear to the masquerade and I am a... a bit out of my depth. Horses or swords, I can judge, but..."
Gills has known a few royals who would take grave offense to even the tamest flirtation from a lowly knight, but... well, even a prince shouldn't swing a sword around if he isn't willing to be cut. "On matters of fashion, I'll gladly defer to those most elegantly dressed."
Prince Arsène's smile curls from friendly to something just shy of predatory as Sir Gills volleys a compliment back at him. A serendipitous meeting, indeed.
He leans into the knight's space a bit further, lowering his voice to a more intimate volume. "Careful there. I'm afraid flattery will get you everywhere, my dear champion." His tone is playful and gently teasing, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of enticement.
Arsène then leans back and resumes his previous jovial manner.
"So you're costume shopping then, how delightful! I am, of course, more than happy to render any aid I can so such a worthy cause. Tell me, do you have a theme in mind?"
the knight who’s attention I’ve been trying to get tucked a flower behind my ear. it was then that I found out I am VERY allergic, and proceeded to sneeze on him fourteen times.
everyone please pray for me while I recover from the severe fatal embarrassment I faced today.
the pouch on Sir Gills's belt clinks merrily with their winnings from the second round of the joust. it's the most coin they've had at their disposal--which is to say, any--in recent memory, and suddenly the responsibility of it weighs as heavily as any burden. they need to spend it wisely.
they need an outfit for the masquerade.
market street is lively and colorful and perhaps a bit noisier than Gills is yet accustomed to. there are so many vendors and things for sale, it's almost overwhelming. fresh fruit from the orchards, fragrant and juicy-looking. heavenly-smelling bread and pastries. beautifully-fletched arrows. jewelry fit for a queen or for a mighty dragon's hoard. (they do, briefly, double back to the stall selling pastries and buy a honey cake so tender and moist it practically dissolves on their tongue, and bursting with such spice and sweetness that they almost have to stifle a moan.)
all right, they think, licking the last of the crumbs from their fingers. focus.
the tailor is easy to find, brightly-dyed garments waving in the gentle summer breeze like flags. Gills pours over the selection, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than ever. there are just... so many things. they pick a few more-or-less at random to look at more closely. a dark red tunic embroidered with silver, that's always in fashion. or a fitted pale-blue shirt with ivory buttons--clean and daring, but does it really suit them?
they sigh, returning both of them to the table. next to them, a well-dressed passer-by is pausing to examine the outfits on display, and Gills watches them for a moment, hoping for inspiration.
Prince Arsène feels the weight of the knight's gaze upon him, and turns to look at them. Realization dawns on his face and lights it up with a bright smile.
"Why, Sir Gills, isn't it?! The plucky underdog who surprised us all at the joust! How utterly marvelous to meet you here. Looking to spend your hard won coin, are you?"
The Prince offers Sir Gills a friendly wink then turns his eye to the items the knight was just handling.
"Ah! I see you have a fine eye for material. I'd steer clear of the lighter blue though, it would only wash you out and undercut your healthy glow. The red would suit your coloring better, so striking against that lovely dark hair of yours."
Arsène hadn't truly expected to run into anyone while perusing the local marketplace, he'd simply hoped to stretch his legs and had wandered into the tailor's on a lark. It seemed that the gods had chosen to favor him though, for wasn't this a serendipitous meeting? The knight was largely unknown to him, but the prince made it his business to let no one of consequence remain out of his acquaintance for long.
“you will ruin me” says the prince to his knight in between hot kisses in the quiet space they had found. his knight, now finally permitted, kisses him giddily over and over and holds him and plans never to let go. he has been given this slice of heaven and he will be keeping it.
“you have ruined me” says the prince to the knight in the quiet space they had found. his voice echoes off of expensive walls and it hits the knight like six thousand arrows. the knight was given this slice of heaven, and could only hold on to it for so long before someone else found it and stole it from him.
trying to bed a knight like: *unbuttons your jupon* *unbuckles your cuirass* *unbuckles your gorget* *takes off your hauberk* *stops to catch my breath* *unbuttons your gambeson* *takes off your shirt*
Prince Arsene! It is so good to see you here. I’ve come a day late, and I must know, did I miss anything important during introductions? I am attempting to connect with our eccentric host to thank them and introduce myself, but I hate to be out of the loop due to my tardiness!
-Princess Ambrosia
((Please tag me @ pinkprincesscake so I don’t miss your answer! <3))
Princess Ambrosia [@pinkprincesscake] finds the Prince near Castle Bloodhaven's main door, where he stands overlooking the grounds and watching the various retinues, guests, and deliveries as they continue to arrive and set up about the grounds.
His eyebrows rise in recognition and he smiles warmly as the Princess greets him and approaches.
"My dear Princess Ambrosia! How utterly delightful to see you again, my sweet. Never fear, you've arrived just in time. Yesterday was primarily occupied with coordinating carriage traffic and seeing everyone settled into their rooms, so I assure you that you've missed little of particular note."
He bows and kisses the Princess's hand with his customary flamboyance and aplomb.
"In fact, I would say you've arrived at the perfect moment. So far as dear Mortimer is concerned, I'm sure I've seen him around somewhere, but as I'm sure you well know the role of host is tireless, and they've been flitting about from one guest to the other to make sure all are settled and attended to as is fitting."
Arsène offers his arm to Princess Ambrosia.
"Would you perhaps like a tour? I've become rather familiar with the place in all the visits I've made to help poor Morti make all the necessary arrangements. At the very least I can show you where to go for tonight's feast~, and perhaps we shall stumble across the Baron on our way."
Princess Ambrosia giggles as her hand is kissed. "Oh, dear prince, every the charmer, as always! I didn't realize you were here not just as a guest, but as a coordinator! Whatever hand you had in this event, I am thoroughly impressed so far!" She takes a moment to fluff up her hair. "So, Mortimer, is it? Glad I have something to call our host besides Evil Baron should I run into him. I had no idea you were acquainted with this castle and its lord. I would love a tour."
Prince Arsène laughs brightly and lets the Princess finish her primping before twining their arms together.
"Oh, indeed! You could say I'm something of a.... let's say a patron for this little endeavor, and I've become quite well acquainted with Lord Caldwell as a result. I'm delighted that all my efforts meet with your approval thus far."
He leans in conspiratorially and stage whispers, "Just wait until you see what I sweet-talked the Wizard Gemini into conjuring up for us. I never want it to be said that I don't know how to throw an unforgettable party."
He gives the Princess a playful wink and then leads the way into the castle, through the imposing wooden doorway and down the dark stone halls, heading towards the entrance to the Great Hall.
Princess Ambrosia looks tickled pink to have her arm linked with the prince's. Her eyes light up when he mentions the surprise he's arranged. "Arranged a party at an evil baron's castle and convinced a wizard to conjure a surprise? My goodness, you have some powerful friends, don't you?"
Fully trusting prince Arsene, she follows him towards the Great Hall, very excited to see what else awaits them in this castle. It is always said that evil lords have impeccable castles.
Prince Arsène chuckles and gives the Princess another winning smile.
"I believe I've told you before, oh sweetest of princesses, I make it my business to know everyone worth knowing."
As the pair make their way down the corridor, the sounds of lively chatter from within the Hall begin to grow.
"Ah! Good. It seems that most have already found their way on their own for the opening Feast. You see, Princess? I told you, you have excellent timing. I'm sure you must be simply famished from your carriage ride."
As they approach the opening to the Hall, the doors open on their own as though moved by invisible servants and the excited sounds of the guests within spills out.
Within, long tables are laid out with sumptuous decorations and food. Some guests sit at the tables, conversing with their neighbors, or otherwise mill about chatting as floating trays of small nibbles or refreshments float between clusters of attendees.
"Where would you like to start? I believe the lovely Jester's performance will be beginning very soon. Would you like to watch?"
“Hello Prince Arsène! Princess Ambrosia (@pinkprincesscake) a pleasure!” Having walked over from his seat at the high table he does a small bow to them both, “I hope I am not disturbing to ask how you both are doing this fine evening?”
Her eyes shine when they reach the central hall, reflecting all of the candlelight inside. "Oh, don't you worry. I've come with an appetite." She follows the path of several different floating trays, looking astounded. "My! Are those being piloted by magic, or is this castle attended by ghost servants?" The latter seemed a nonzero possibility here.
At the mention of the Jester of Hearts, her grin turned vampish. "Ah yes, I heard the famed jester would be performing tonight. Knowing them, I very could be distracted from the food no matter how hungry I might be."
With all of the people, the dishes, and the show to see, Princess Ambrosia nearly missed the man approaching them. She stopped just in time to catch him bowing. "Oh! Why, no, no disturbance at all." She tilted her head before offering a small curtsy in return. "I assume you are our gracious host, and I see you already know my name. Thankfully, your patron, the prince, has informed me of yours as well. A pleasure to meet you, Lord Caldwell."
"It is an absolute delight," *he says bowing a very formal and deep bow,* "Princess Ambrosia, why yes I was informed of your arrival, and might I say a gracious thank you for the cake. It will be served tonight alongside the other desserts."
"How do you enjoy Bloodhaven and this strange country, your majesty?" *He says, smiling softly as he takes out a chair to sit with the two attendees.* "You don't mind me joining, do you?"
"You know I can't ever get enough of your company, Darling."
Prince Arsène smiles at Lord Caldwell, the curl of his lips and weight of his gaze carrying a sort of familiarity more than the simple warm friendliness he'd shown the Princess so far. He takes a moment to appreciate the fine care taken in the Baron's appearance, eyes lingering in a few key places.
"I'm sure Princess Ambrosia won't mind either; will you sweet one?"
At first, Princess Ambrosia had felt rather excited and flattered to think that Lord Caldwell, celebrated host of the event, wanted to join her and the prince for the feast. She was going to tell the baron that it was her pleasure to provide for his guests, oh, she just loved few things more than a good feast, of course you can join, the more the merrier!
But the entire conversation seemed to go off-kilter when the prince responded to the baron, and it all started with his use of the word darling.
She turned to Prince Arsene and realized the way he was looking at the baron, making little mistake of just where his gaze lingered. Even the prince's attitude seemed so different.
Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling that she was more a part of the background to these two men's interaction. Refusing to be a mere third wheel, she smiled back at the prince. "Why, of course not. The more, the merrier. In fact..."
The princess snapped her fingers, and in but a moment, a knight who had previously been blending into the crowd now came to his lady's side. As he crossed his arm in a bow, Princess Ambrosia showed him off proudly. "This is one of my finest knights, Sir Graham. I've brought him along to participate in the festivities and to check that all of the food tonight is poison-free."
She gave the quickest little wink to her knight before turning back to Lord Caldwell, face sympathetic as she held a hand to her chest. "Please don't take any offense to this. I do this at any foreign feast. It is my advisors' insistence. As to your question, I can't say I haven't yet seen enough of your country to know what's so strange about it. I'm sure I will get my chance to explore as the days go on."
Prince Arsène turned his assessing and appreciative gaze to the Princess's loyal companion.
"Oh my... My dear Ambrosia, I simply knew you had the most excellent of taste. I certainly hope no one has been fool enough to attempt any funny business with the food. Firstly, it would make me quite cross, but also it would be a crying shame to deprive ourselves of such an excellent view."
He leaned in to speak quietly into the Princess's ear.
"Sweetling, you simply must tell me at some point where you acquired such a lovely specimen. How ever do you manage to get anything done with him about? I would be most distracted."
Okay, it was becoming abundantly clear where the prince’s true interest lied. Ah well. As long as he made no attempt to charm her knight away from her…
Sir Graham responded to the obvious, admiring gaze and compliments with a small bow of his helm. His shoulders tensed as he crossed his hands behind his back. “Thank you, your highness…” he muttered.
Princess Ambrosia giggled when the prince murmured in her ear. “He’s one of the great results from the kingdom’s training academy. Served me well for several years now, and believe me, he can be quite the distraction. It’s hard to be at my best behavior with him.”
She turned a mischievous, sideways glance his way while smirking. Sir Graham’s poise just became more tense, his helm tilted just a little further down. One could almost hear little beadlets of his sweat hitting against his armor.
Prince Arsène returned the smirk, a playful and roguish glint coming into his eyes.
"I do hope we can be very good friends, my dear Princess. I think I should quite like the opportunity to witness what happens when you're not on your best behavior. Is your companion the jealous sort? Shall we tease him?"
With that he plucked a strawberry off a nearby tray and took a luxuriant bite of it.
Prince who doesn't understand that there are multiple knights. He thinks every man with a helmet is the same guy. He wildly misinterprets his relationship with The Knight™. The knights all just kind of nod and remain silent when the Prince starts to prattle on and on about something he did with one of the other knights the other day. The Prince interprets this as recognition of the situation because The Knight was there too.
It confuses the Prince to no end that The Knight only occasionally mentions any flirting the Prince did, sometimes days after it happens. Is The Knight into him or not?
The knights can't figure out who and how many of them the Prince is into. He seems to flirt almost indiscriminately
When the Prince gets lured into a room with multiple knights, because they need to figure out who he likes, he damn near passes out. His perfect handsome Knight has just multiplied and he is in heaven
Prince who thinks he just discovered clone fucking
my knight you have to live you have to get up you have to put your hand over your wound and hold it there. you have to keep walking and walking and walking because you cannot lay down yet, it’s not time. wipe the blood off your breastplate and look up into the sun. lean on your sword if you need to. lift one foot after another. get up. get up. this would be a pitiful grave.
