Anger never quite suit Sevastyan Petit. He was always good humored and full of mirth. Sour moods were not a recurrence where he was concerned. So it was a shock to his intimates, those in attendance that really knew the prince, to see him stampeding through the manor house with a grimace twisted in fury. He wore his anger like a dense coat, radiating off his figure as he pushed his way through the rooms. Not that he needed to push — the sight of the gold leafed crown and the angrily beating wings upon his back had people parting as he came through, escaping the prince’s uncharacteristic ire.
As the night lagged on and more rambunctious behavior made itself known across the mansion, he’d come to realize the mess that was being made. Enchanted foods and drink were unknowingly being consumed by the humans, and this was sure to cause a problem come dawn when the effects wore off. Sevastyan, who had strictly prohibited the distribution of said delicacies, had instantly thundered into the kitchen upon their discovery, cornering a servant slaving away and demanding to know who brought the foods in. It did not take long for them to betray the trickster, expression scrunched up in bitter humor as they retorted, “Why sire, who could it be other than your precious clochette?” Silverbell. It was truly a curse that so many of his servants treated her with the same deference as their own queen.
Though most suspected that Silverbell would wear the royal circlet next. There were nights, wrapped in her willowy limbs and tasting her sweet lips, that he had thought maybe they were right. She was favored for a reason, it was a natural conclusion. Then Silverbell would pull an utterly irresponsible move such as this, and he was reminded what kept him from asking her hand. Love her chaotic spirit as much as he did, and he truly deeply did love that about her, she was ill suited for the responsibility that came with a crown. That sounded cruel from him, an equally puckish sprite, but he couldn’t deny the truth. In his hands these things wouldn’t happen, but her selfish need for destructive fun kept her from seeing how damaging this could be. He just wished it were the opposite.
As he watched humans making fools of themselves through their enchantments, his fury ignited, and he marched into a room full of faeries watching the revelry with wildly humored eyes. Their expressions faltered when they met the angry eyes of their prince, fluttering away to escape his ire. As they spread about he was able to find the glint of her circlet in the crowd, and his anger flared even more at the sight of it. It had been hours since Sevastyan first set out to find Silverbell, a couple roadblocks on the way leading to offshoot distractions, some far more pleasurable than others, but he had finally been left undisturbed to wreak havoc upon her.
So he did not stop, not for a second, wings flapping angrily he pretty much floated right to her. She was there, among a giggly patch of the most beautiful of their kind, watching the party and making fun of the human guests turned entertainment. Oh his anger simmered and bubbled more in response. When the others saw him, they swiftly dispersed, and Sevastyan did not give Silverbell much time before he fell upon her. “Up,” he said, in a stern and uncharacteristically hard voice. “Come, now.” His words were sharp, quick commands, said in the deep regal voice of a prince and not the careless cheerful lover she was likely used to. If it was not obvious to her what he was feeling, she would understand shortly.
He was walking / floating rapidly away from the crowded room, heading towards the large courtyard where he suspected it would be empty and he could unleash his anger onto her without audience. Not that he didn’t like the theatrics of people watching — but he liked Silverbell more than anyone and did not need others to be privy to what would likely be an explosive fight between them both. And the gardens were also private but still a little public; with his desire to follow the human decorum he wouldn’t let her get the best of him and seduce her way back into his good graces out there.
So he marched onto a private dark corner in the greenery, letting out an exasperated breath before he twisted back towards her, stomping directly to her. He came up so close to her that their chests nearly touched with every heaving breath, his nose would brush her’s had he leaned down. “What,” he started, punctuating each word, “Did I say about bringing those enchanted foods to the party? Because last I remembered I told you a very stern and hard, ‘No.’” @silverbcll
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There was a part of Silverbell that knew she was playing with fire the moment she told the servants to serve the faerie food. Her darling High Prince was too concerned with consequences to allow the fun that such enchanted delicacies would provide. So, she had to be the one to introduce the humans them. But mere moments after informing the servants to share the food freely, she knew she would have her own consequence to deal with. Sev had never been angry with her, at least not that she could remember, so she told herself it would be okay...
Was she still evading him a vast majority of the night? Making sure to engage humans and other fae alike so that there was not a moment he could find her alone? Perhaps. But if you were to ask her about it, she would just tell you she was doing her job as a host to engage with all the guests. While she wasn’t the host, it was often spoken about between the fae that Silverbell would one day become the next High Queen and so she could easily just explain she was doing her part to prepare for such a title.
And as the night wore on, she became relaxed. Careless. She spent less time around others, or when she was around their kind, found herself laughing at the ways the humans were making utter fools of themselves. Even when they were drunk on normal wine, humans tried their hardest to act prim and proper and as if the room was not spinning. But tonight was different. Inhibitions were lowered and truths were being told and not even their vision was something these Auradonians could trust. It was quite hilarious. And there might have been a few occasions tonight where Silver had led a pair of humans towards each other just to see how an interaction would play out. She was currently laughing with a few of the other courtiers about a man who could not tell a lie, that had been corned by his wife and his mistress, when a familiar pair of beating wings sounded nearby. Before she could get up to move somewhere else, Sev was in front of her. She tried not to react to the tone of his voice, at least not around the others. “Oh hello darling. Come to join the festivities? I believe you might be a bit late, as many of the humans are making their way into carriages on their way home.” She didn’t bother to motion towards a few that had fallen asleep where they stood on the stairwell.
His command had her wings bowing slightly, and as soon as the other courtiers left to be elsewhere, Silver let out a sigh and followed her prince. She didn’t let her gaze or her chin dip though.
Once in his quarters though, Silver would be lying if she did not feel a pulsing deep within her. And while she knew there might be some hunger within her at this new side of him, there was something else. Fear. Fear he would send her back to Neverland, tell her to never show her face in his court again, and condemn her to a life where everyone knew she had not lived up to her potential. But he would’t do that, he was not like that. Her prince.
“Yes, you did say no. That is true. But I could see deep in those eyes of yours that you wished them here. To see what they would do to our guests. You can not tell me it was not entertaining, at least.” She brought a hand up to his jaw, to lightly pull his face against her own. Cheek to cheek. “And this way you were not a fault. It was that dastardly fae from Neverland who performed such a crime.” Her free hand came around his back, inching closer to his wings. A soft spot. A weakness. “I beg of you, My Prince, do not be angry with me. I was just showing the humans our ways. How often do they say they wish they had been borne with wings? Tonight, they got to live as us. I’ve made their wishes, their dreams come true.”
