Nothing that a beer won’t fix The Royal Masquerade M!Kayden X F!MC
Just a little one because Friday’s chapter left me slack jawed (I knew the twist was coming but.... Not quite how I expected it to happen). This is Kayden’s POV; what I imagine after the diamond scene. Also, does anyone have a face claim for M Kayden? I am struggling for pictures.
Pairing - M! Kayden (Trystan) X F!MC
Words- 994
Rating - T for just a little bit of angst and fluff
All rights to Pixelberry.
Teapot’s face is filled with glee. Too much glee for a man we named Teapot because of his erratic temper.
It’s a matter of time before the rest of them notice; before they ask him what the matter is.
I am a fool.
A complete and utter moronic fool.
And now, of all people, Teapot knows it.
“It should be a wonderful voyage Chief, I’m not sure what the long face is all about.” Sunshine’s words tear through me; her sweet, unassuming tone unmarred by alcohol so far. “Just think; blue skies, open seas, banquets and - “
“Engagements.” Teapot raises his glass towards the two of us and gives us a grin revealing a row of uneven teeth, crookedly gleaming under the candlelight. “Rumour has it that the Nevrakis Lord, the boring one, is going to propose to that pretty girl Chief keeps making eyes at.”
There he goes. It took less than five minutes for him to crack. Five bloody minutes before he started throwing jokes about my current predicament.
The echo of laughter of laughter from under Frisk’s helmet only cements my further torment. “I’ve got an extra helmet Chief, you know. I have you covered.”
This is ridiculous.
I swallow a mouthful of ale in the hopes that it dampens my temper, but their incessant chuckling stokes the flames.
I mean, what was I thinking? I suppose I deserve all of this. I over-stepped my boundaries, and hers, more times than is appropriate and this is my punishment; becoming a laughingstock amongst those I should command respect from. And for what? Teapot is, of course, correct and by sundown Lady Eva will be an engaged woman.
Lady Eva Nevrakis.
The very thought of it is enough for me to throw more Skull Cracker down my throat and embrace the scorch marks it leaves along my insides. Out of all the nobles, it had to be a bloody Nevrakis. Hector Nevrakis at that; a dullard whose idea of a good time is sitting his vault and counting piles of gold to very micro-gram. Great. Wonderful.
I down more ale. I have to in order to ignore their jibes.
“I’m just surprised I managed to get him back here at all. I thought he was about to abscond with her when I found them canoodling”
I scoff. “There was no canoodling. I do not canoodle.” I breath deep ignoring the blood that is heating up my face. Though I am unsure whether it’s temper or embarrassment.
“Well, I think it’s romantic.” Sunshine slams a tankard on the table and though I am certain the sentiment is meant to be kind; it comes out more like an angry bear. “You are all just jealous. It’s not like someone as lovely as Eva would look at either of you fools.”
Bless her.
Still, her support does little to stop their mocking.
“I suppose us being stationed in Lythikos wouldn’t be so bad. I enjoy that nog stuff they make even if their winters are brutal.” Teapot shrugs and I takes me a moment to work out if he’s being serious. His face is devoid of humour and once the rest of them murmur an agreement, I realise the end of their mockery has arrived and now something else has taken its place.
Us? In Lythikos?
I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to clear the ale from my mind.
Would I?
I would be able to see her, more often than if I remained at the Fierro Estate; than if I remained the Crown Shield. Hector is rarely home and would probably be home less once he got his precious job at the Royal Archives. I could probably make it happen too; I could probably sway Alexander into having me moved there even if I would have to play on his affection towards her more than I would hope and that way-
Oh my God.
I still myself amongst their chattering and look around; my rag-tag band of merry people, willing to move to possibly the most reviled part of Cordonia just so I could have an affair with a Lady of a noble house.
What am I doing?
I push away the tankard, my third from the last count I made, and clear my throat.
“Nobody’s going to Lythikos.” The table quiets even though my voice is little more than a rumble.
Sunshine’s mouth begins its usual protest, but I cut her off with a glare.
“The boat leaves in an hour, do not be late.” I pat Teapot on the shoulder and leave the tavern with my dignity, at least outwardly, intact. Internally, it is in little more than tatters.
The dock is a hive of activity; nobles taking their place aboard the ship and servants rallying around, carrying more than should be necessary for what is essentially a jaunt around the coast. I stand under the galleon as it looms over me, the sheer gravity of what is coming sobering me up in an instant.
I am going to congratulate her; smile cordially and give a polite nod. The way I should have always done.
Still, when I see her standing by the rails, her face a picture of mesmerising beauty and her eyes as blue as the ocean itself, I have to fight with my willpower to stay away. It is the best for the both of us.
Frisk, Sunshine and Teapot board the vessel not long after me and despite their earlier prodding, they give me a pat on the shoulder as they take their posts and for the first time today, I feel lucky. Lucky to have a group of ridiculous people who, for some reason, like me enough to be willing to spend the remainder of their lives, freezing their arses off in the coldest part of Cordonia just to indulge their jaded and tragic Chief.
The Frustrating Things M! Kayden X F! MC One shot The Royal Masquerade
So, I am departing from misery and this is my attempt at fluff. Takes place after the love confession. I hope you enjoy and thanking you all for reading!
Pairing - M! Kayden (Trystan) X F!MC
Words- 1565
Rating - T for fluff and a little bit romance
All rights to Pixelberry.
I used to love falling asleep to the sound of rain.
As a child, when the drops hit the window and I held my covers to my chin, my eyes would flutter shut at the peace it brought me. Sometimes, I would open my window, just a fraction, and breathe in the smell of it. But perhaps, not tonight.
Like a swift breath, the heavens had opened during the dusk and the skies had grown the colour of ash. Rather than calm, it brought me unrest.
Still, I watch it. Sitting in my chair beside the tall windows, in my nightgown, the rain beats against the window; the grey clouds have since turned to black and an obscured moon back lights the night, trying to force its way from the cocoon of mist and fog.
My story had only increased in complexity tonight: a political engagement to further an almost impossible agenda; an heir to the throne, powerless and heartbroken; a family in the throes of utter disarray and confusion; and, love that whilst pure, was certainly going to become riddled with pain and uncertainly. A more compelling story could not have been written, not even by the literary greats in Europe.
The book in my hand, small and delicate, taunts me.
Tristan and Isolde: the very book that my Trystan had handed to me.
I had finally read it and my heart had wept. Was their fate to be ours?
The parallels had been striking and heart breaking and gripping. In fact, I would have enjoyed this story were it not so close to my own.
A crack of thunder and a flicker of lightning send a shudder up my spine.
I had thought about going to him for the past hour; I knew these hallways well enough to sneak through them. But he, as shown earlier, is a paragon of virtue and whilst I would happily spend the night in his arms – his bed – he would not allow it. Damn him and his sensibility. I pace the room. How on Earth had he compiled such composure! After his visit the previous night, it had taken every ounce of will power – mainly his willpower – to not drag him into my chambers.
Another bang of thunder.
“Damn this weather!” I would already find it hard enough to sleep thinking of him, thinking of everything.
With a huff, I throw myself onto the bed; the ceiling has exactly three cracks in it, each one close to the window.
Today, we had stolen an embrace in the living room, and it had felt wonderful to be so careless, to not second guess him. To not wonder if I had been imagining his care for me. For a moment, just to be wrapped in his arms and for it to be filled with certainty, had been the most exhilarating of feelings.
It is now all I can think of.
His large frame wrapping me up; his sturdy body under the armour he wears pressing against me.
More lightning.
“Why must you torture me?” Of course, the weather does not listen to my pleas.
“You should make sure your door is locked to ensure no torture takes place.”
I sit upright at the sound of his voice, for a moment thinking it to be a frustrated hallucination. It is not. And my heart could not be happier. Still, seeing him smirking against the door frame, his usual attire replaced by a simple shirt – black of course – and his usually neat hair, damp with rain and messy with wind, brings out my mischievous side.
“Have we not learned to knock? I could have been in any manner of undress. I would have thought you may have discovered your manners after the last time you barged into my room without announcement.”
A ghost of a smile sits on his lips; the one I see when he engages in the game of teasing we play. Slowly, he kicks himself from the doorway and with care, closes the door. “Announcement was made. You were too busy asking the air to stop torturing you to notice. You sounded most distressed; it is my solemn duty to check.”
Trystan is handsome – not beautiful by most standards even though I may disagree with them – but his dishevelled and slightly crooked appearance makes my heart drum louder than the thunder. He is not pretty. Not even a little bit. Not like Alexander. With his dark features, even darker because of the dim lighting, it is difficult to not find his gaze intimidating but there is also something so intriguing about it, like you could swim in his eyes.
The bed dips as he sits on the edge. I join him. Excitement floods my senses at the mere prospect of him being this near to me. Uninterrupted. In my bed chambers. On my bed.
Still, he makes no motion towards me, only offering a raise of his eyebrows.
“Do you wish to tell me what was torturing you?”
You.
Of course, even with my usual brazen flirting, I am too much of a coward to say that. “The weather. It is very loud.”
“Not as loud as your yelling.”
“I have exceptional lung capacity and I had to show it who was boss.” As if on cue, another roar of thunder put me right back in my place. He laughs as I jump. “I am happy to see that my distress amuses you – yet again.”
“My love, your distress could never amuse me. At times, your temper does though.”
My love. I melt into a puddle right there. As if the earlier conversations and events had been but a dream, the very concept of Trystan Vescovi loving me makes my face break into a smile and I cannot help but kiss his cheek.
“I should make fun of you more often.”
He can do whatever he likes to me more often. Especially if it ends up here.
“You can try.” I move only a fraction closer to him; just enough for it to be noticeable. He does not pull away. “So, you were just patrolling the corridors and -”
Trystan’s laughter is throaty; like his voice is covered in gravel. “Yes. It is my job: patrol the area, make sure you are safe something -” He stops and glances down at his hands, a silence prevailing throughout the room. I know what he’s thinking, and I need him to stop thinking it. “Something that I failed to do the last time. I shan’t fail again.”
I hate that he feels this way. It makes my stomach hurt to think he’s punishing himself for Renza’s behaviour.
I squeeze his hand. “You have failed nothing. It is because of you that I was found. If I recall, the main victim of the whole charade was the door you kicked through.”
“I was always one for a dramatic entrance. I am a Vescovi after all.”
“I can believe that.”
I rest my head on his shoulder and relish the feeling of his arm as it pulls me towards him. How I want him to stay in here. Even if it were just to talk with me. I wrap my arms around his middle, the unusual feeling of thin fabric on his torso allowing me to feel each muscle beneath. He smells of the leather he wears and of the Earth; homely and fresh. I could breathe it in forever.
His hands tangling in my hair and his lips pressing to my head, tells me he is almost ready to say goodbye for the evening. “The weather tortures you but you punish me.”
“I would think that punishing the Crown Shield would be an offence.” Shameless: yes. Regrettable: absolutely not. I smile into his chest as he splutters out an unintelligible response. For all of his teasing, he is not as unflappable as he wishes to appear. “You seem to have forgotten your ability to speak Trystan Vescovi. Please, to make amends for my earlier discretion, feel free to take advantage of my lips any way you see fit.”
Even more shameless, but it does the trick because within a second his lips have crashed against mine and his fingers have dug into the material of my nightgown. Blood thunders everywhere in my body. Breathing seems to stop. Everything works of its own volition.
But it does not last forever; though it should.
It should be a crime to be kissed like that – as if the world is about to burn – and nothing more.
This is why he wins; of course, my words can easily fluster him, but he knows that with one touch from him, my entire brain ceases to work, and my frustrations will shatter the resolve I pretend to have. This is why, right now, with his forehead pressed against mine, he is smirking at me; crooked and filled with knowing.
“Just so you know, Eva, this hurts me more than it will every hurt you.” Chastely, his lips touch my head. “Good night my love. May your dreams be pleasant and your sleep most restful.”
The he leaves, laughing to himself.
He knows what he just did. Restful indeed. “Damn you.” I mutter into my pillow as the thunder bellows once more; the storm laughing at my frustrations even more viciously than before.
The Red Mist M! Kayden X F! MC One shot The Royal Masquerade
Just a little bit from last week’s chapter. I wanted more angst so it’s just a little re-write. I have also written a mini-shot from Hunter’s POV which I am happy to post Thursday :) Happy reading
Pairing - M! Kayden (Trystan) X F!MC from Kayden’s (Trystan’s) POV
Words- 1113
Rating - T for angst and a teeny bit of language
All rights to Pixelberry.
I am blaming him.
I am blaming him and there is nothing that any of them can say or do or throw at me that is going to change my mind at all.
It takes more self-control than I ever thought I had not to slam his regency against the hull of this ship and beat a confession out of him about his scheming, sick sister. But I don’t. I don’t have time for it. I do have time however, to get his paws off of Eva. My Eva.
“Out. Now.” I snap and shove Alexander away from her. He can’t touch her; I don’t even want him to look at her right now.
“Crown Shield. What on Earth-”
He stops mid sentence when I look at him and I can only but imagine how much fury he’s seen on my face.
Eva. Sweet Eva: hurt by that duplicitous harpy right under his nose. And of course, like the coward I thought him to be, hiding behind that pomp and circumstance, he denies it furiously. Denies it and then dares tell me he cares about her; he has no idea. He has no clue what caring about someone means.
Her small body lies limp against me as I hold her up in a sitting position, stroking her hair that’s damp with sweat.
Damn Fierros.
“Trystan?” Eva’s voice is like a tremor; weak and shrill and it makes my heart droop and thud.
She can’t die. I can’t let her die.
“I’m here; it’s OK.” I do not give the slightest of damns that Alexander is watching any of this even though I can see the grievance forming on his face. She’s asking for me and I’m here; to hell with the rest of them. “What happened? Can you tell me?”
“Poison, she said it was-”
“Get Vasco and for Christ’s sake do not alert anyone to this.” I snap at him and even though he wants to argue, he doesn’t. He does what I ask. When we’re alone, I kiss the top of her head lightly and rest my cheek against it ignoring the raging temperature of her flesh. “Ok. It’s going to be ok. I’ll deal with it.”
“My throat hurts and my head-”
“I know, I know. Just try not to close your eyes. Listen to my voice. Valiant needs you to be well; I can’t imagine he’d want to live with me. I’m certainly not as good at cuddling.” She laughs which turns into a cough.
I’ll kill Renza myself. If anything happens to her, I will reduce her and that godforsaken house to utter rubble.
“I think you are.”
I cannot help but clamp my arms around her just a bit more. “Maybe; sometimes. Let me tell you something about me, something I haven’t told anyone. Then you will have to get better so you can tease me about it later; I do not care for spiders. In fact, as a child, I wouldn’t go in the pantry for a week because I had spied one as large as my hand in the corner and I took five lashings for refusing to get bread for dinner.”
By this point, I’m rambling. I’d sell the Earth to keep her awake. When she laughs, even though it turns into a strangled and meek gasp, I keep talking because I know she’s listening. I tell her about how I’d once stolen my mother’s necklace and tried to give it to a girl I liked when I was six and how I used to hide under the covers when they put the scarecrow outside my bedroom window. I speak for an eternity until Alexander blasts back through the door with Vasco, who then takes over.
My heart does not stop thundering with blind panic, even when Alexander and I are left alone to deal with the fallout.
As Vasco steadies her down the hallway, leaving us with our instructions, the quiet falls on us both like a lead weight.
Alexander breaks it.
“I had no clue about Renza.”
“Of course not, why would you? It is not at all like you’re related and engaging in some pathetic power play for the throne that Eva has found herself mixed up in.”
I want to hit him. I truly do. I almost felt this way after the hunt; after his Father had threatened her. His wide-eyed naivety, caused by the fact he’d had everything handed to him on a plate, women included, may not have directly caused this mess but it had been a contributing factor.
After a beat, I jump as he lunges my way. His hand grabbing for my collar. Again, and again, we duck and dive, clipping each other here and there until I finally get a hold of that stupid cape and trap his throat between the wooden wall and my forearm.
Idiot.
Still, it doesn’t stop his brazenness.
“Self-righteous prick.” He chokes out as I press my forearm against his throat.
“Entitled, oblivious child.”
The echo of footsteps bounding down the stairs breaks us apart and the wary look of the two soldiers who walk through the door gives rise to the fact I have just almost strangled the current heir to the throne. Like a stand-off, we stand, and all look at each other and I know he’s tempted to have me thrown somewhere filled with rats and with nothing to eat but gruel for the rest of my life. The threat is evident in his eyes, burning like ice on fire.
“Let us go Crown Shield and leave these men to do their job.”
He does not once check to see if I have followed; I doubt he cares. It is not until we reach the bottom of the stairs, close to the galley, that he stops, face twisted and tight.
“Ever put your hands on me like that again and I will have you hanged.” It is not a threat. He means it. “I will tie the rope myself. Do not for one moment forget that whilst I know you care for Lady Eva; I care just as much. And not only do I have to contend with the fact I have lost her to a bloody Nevrakis, I also have lost her to an insolent Chief of Guard who has forgotten his station.”
He knows.
My thudding and panicked heart stops abruptly.
I do not follow as he storms up the stairs, quickly regaining the composure I am used to seeing on him when he is faced with a crowd, leaving me in the dark underbelly of the boat wondering what the hell to do with myself.
