Her eyes do widen and brows raise in genuine interest at his suggestion, thin lips forming an intrigued âoâ shape. A letter detailing the death and dismemberment of a person? (er..well, a terrible person, specifically. Thatâs an important detail, she has to remember). Heâs clearly mocking her, but suddenly these flowery love letters, however raunchy, suddenly feel boring and lackluster.Â
  â Oh yes, indeed. If you could find me something like that, that would be marvelous .â While he might be joking, she certainly isnât. Call her crazy, but sheâd always been fascinated by the macabreâŠAs many dark mages she knew were. At least back where she came from.Â
  She is admittedly surprised to see he isnât fazed at all by what she reads. Perhaps heâs not as much of a sheltered prude as she pegged him to be. She agrees the writing is garbage. Far too flowery and formal to get a basic point across. But it would seem heâs not embarrassed by the thought of sex itselfâŠjust by her rather forward teasings from herself. After all, reading an old letter didnât compare to being dared to stick your hand down a womanâs bodice.
  She does chuckle at his mention of Xanderâs letters, however. While sheâd never received any such thing, nor her brother, sheâs fairly certain that it was because people had better things to do in a world ravaged by the Fell Dragon. Well, the ones who were still alive, anyway. Xander did seem incredibly popular among the courtâs ladies from what sheâd seen. Handsome, imposing, first in line for the crownâŠthat last part always drew in at least a few.Â
   â Oh, I can imagine ,â she muses as she sets the letters aside for now, finding Leoâs words far more interesting than any words sheâd seen on paper. Still sitting on the desk, she leans back, palms resting on the dusty surface behind her without a care for getting her hands dirty. She clearly looks intrigued as she looks at Leo in the dull, green lighting, however. She does give the bauble in her hand another quick shake to refresh it. â We -â she pauses, realizing she canât say that sheâs a noble lady. Damnit, why is it so hard to pretend to be a commoner? Despite the pause, she acts as if nothing is amiss. â Well, noble ladies have a hard time learning I guess, what with all their bodyguards and servants around all the time, I guess. Itâs easier to learn those things when youâre on your own .â She wonders how she would have turned out if her world hadnât gone to hell in a handbasket and she still had such supervision in her teenage years as she had as a child.
   â Iâm surprised youâre the one screening those, though. Do you not have a designated servant for reading such⊠âunsavoryâ propositions? Or is this some brotherly exchange you two do, and he screens the raunchy love letters from all your suitors ?â
âYou can imagine but itâs doubtful you could even come up with half the things women are willing to admit to wanting to do if given a moment chance to marry my brother.â It was sickening, if her were being honest. None of the women of the court seemed to have an ounce of self respect for themselves or for his brother. If they knew Xander at all, they would know he wasnât swayed by what positions a woman would be willing to do or how many children she would bear. If anything, that put the Crown Prince more ill at ease. And it pained Leo that heâd had to be the go between for so many of those letters.
Xander owed him a HELLÂ of a lot for that time lost.Â
âItâs easier to think they know those things.â Leo uttered with a roll of his eyes. He finally turned away from the papers in his hands so he could glance at Aubrey. She seemed intrigued by the conversation and seeing as she was giving him an outlet to complain, he would do so.Â
âBut itâs clear they get all of their wisdom from cheap, trashy books. The amount of women who think a prince would expose them against a window for the world to see it just...mind blowing! And the plethora of them who think they will just be thrown on the ground in a garden and be taken there. In Nohrâs weather they would FREEZE before they could even shout my brotherâs name.â
It probably wasnât best to think of his own brother in those situations. And he wasnât going to picture it either. Heâd done well over the years to keep such thoughts from his mind, especially when reading such drivel. Ah, repression. It worked so well in more ways than one. Both with bad childhood memories and when reading garbage letters.
A moment later, Leo is sighing at the otherâs words. Eyes falling back to the papers in his hands âI donât receive any of those letters. And I count myself lucky. No one in court, not even the most desperate women, want to sleep with the prince who they think eats rats for dinner every night.â
Ugh, he hated that rumor.