He takes residence at the rooms entrance, quietly leaning against the door frame with his arms folding along the breadth of his chest until a lengthy sigh ensues. How innocent did one have to be to consider petit theft a crime in a palace filled with criminals? Even more so given Englandâs long-winded history? This was simply a form of reparations. âYou get a pat on the shoulder. . Perhaps a gracious thank you as well for carrying her belongings. âAs any proper gentleman would do so.âÂ
âI donât know if I would describe myself as a rebel,â Mimi scoffed a laugh, âespecially not today, of all days.â The last place any of them wanted to be was pigeonholed with King ArthurâŠWell. Just plain old Arthur now, Mimi supposed. She passed the egg from one hand to another absently as she walked the length of the gallery, surveying the art. ââOh, speaking of Arthur,â she stopped in front of a portrait of him. Decades younger but with the same smirk. âI wonder what theyâll do with it all? The portraits, the statues, the currencyâŠâ They could banish him from the country but Arthur would linger in England forever.Â
âIt would just be borrowing,â she protested, only half-joking. âLike museums do! Museums donât really give anything in return, eitherâŠâ But someone beat her to the joke. Mimi whipped around, almost dropping the egg and the act in shock. She opened her mouth to say something, then glanced back at Raymund. Looking back to Gio, she continued with as much relaxed indifference as she could manage. âOh?â She quirked a brow across at him, âand are you feeling gentlemanly?â She didnât give him a chance to answer before tossing the bejewlled egg toward him in an underhand throw. âI didnât think you were going to make it to the party? What a nice surprise.â An understatement, of course, although she said it with a disinterested shrug. âWhen did you arrive?â
ââWe were just talking about all the portraits of Arthur.â Mimi suddenly seemed to remember Raymun, gesturing first him then the paintings on the wall. âWhat do you think? Will they be on the fire this winter?â @ohrcymundâ @giorxcciâ
     raymund laughed, watching as mimi began to toss the egg back and forth between her hands. he moved to stand behind her, eying the portrait and scrunched his face. â i suppose theyâll throw it in storage and let it collect dust. englandâs shame in a dark closet until heâs forgotten, â he muttered. he hadnât thought about that at all but it made sense. â well, iâm sure theyâll start running new prints with the new heir. who is it, anyway? antonia? â he had briefly kept up with the names of ceciliaâs never ending siblings. perhaps he would have to ask her later on. if he could find her. eventually the currency would get discontinued and would eventually no one would have to see arthurâs face.
    he was about to comment on the matter of the egg when he saw gio in the doorway. the comment rolled his eyes, not having meant anything by it than a joke. â ask anyone who knows me. i do not think the term proper gentleman would come up. idiot, maybe. klutz, most definitely, â he said, taking a couple jabs at himself. â best trust a real gentleman with the egg. i might break it. â he didnât mind when being forgotten when mimi shifted the conversation to gio, it gave him more time to take in the mass amounts of vanity the english king seemed to have.Â
    â yes, i am curious. i said theyâll probably hid him away, as he deserves, â he said, turning his head slightly. â what do you think theyâll do with all of this? â { @giorxcciâ }