phoenixstrut | [AU] For the Greater Good

"You think that's my fault?" she bites, flinching at the sharp snap of the jewelry box lid. It's more defense than anything, natural, instinctive. She's young, never trained, not at all prepared to have taken up the crown she now wears.

....Excuses, really, but she feels justified enough in them, even with the guilt crushing her for it. He has a point, but...

"At least I'm trying." For all she knew, he had avoided all of it for ages.

She turns her face away, flushed and irritated and furious and heartbroken with the overall situation and sits on the edge of the bed- their bed, regardless of wherever he decides to sleep.

Yeah, no, he's not even going to give her a response to that. There's just an eyebrow up - he's definitely judging something about this situation - and he settles into the chair, horns fading with another pass of his hands to mostly untangle his hair.

And he absolutely is going to sleep here.

Zaveid quietly goes to the shower come dawn, another door off the room sharing the sounds of running water.

She waits for him, waits for him to change his mind, or at least for the rustling of sheets when he settles in on the opposite side, but... there's nothing.

She keeps her back to him, mind aimlessly stirring in exhaustion, unable to piece together a coherent thought for her. The theme is all the same, though; her new reality, miserable as it now seems, is going to take some getting used to.

Throughout the night, she stays curled against the edge of the bed in a tight ball, tears streaming (almost) silently into the pillow in a pitiful lament. Wedding night indeed.

When she wakes the next morning, only to find him still not in bed and the shower running in the next room, she stays as she is, debating if getting up is really worth it. They aren't expected anywhere immediately.... not for the next few days. Surely no one would bat an eye if she stayed in bed in a bundle of empty, sad emotion and didn't make an appearance for at least that long.

She really, truly considers it, before she notices the tissues on her bedside table. Those.... hasn't been there before, had they?

Her eyes flick again to the bathroom door, and she sighs, running a hand down her face. An early riser... noted. Would he still feel as burnt as she did from their exchange the night before?

No, they had not. Maybe he got as much sleep as she did.

Either way, all the vague sense of the demon king a door over is the pleasant nice hot shower melty feel.

.... So completely unburnt by last night that he might have forgotten that there's someone in the bed. The door opens, there's a cloud of steam, and... There's clearly some sort of demon magic keeping that towel up, right? Either way, Dove, here's your husband, mostly toweled down from a shower and only in a towel.

He's on his way to a dresser, not a glance at the bed. Maybe he's not quite an early riser...

It takes her a second... really takes her a second to realize that she's staring and that even from her place curled up in bed, she's gaping at him.

Oh Hell.... she isn't sure if she should be terrified or want him or...

There are a few more heartbeats before she comes to her senses and snaps the sheets up over her head, hoping to hide her now burning face. A few shuffling sounds of the comforter being pressed to her face later and the realization slams into her: even with the muscles of his back ~~and backside~~ distracting her, there's no mistaking the scars running the length of his back.

...She peeks again, just to be sure, heart sinking slowly...

Edited 2019-04-13 05:17 (UTC)

She shifts to hide, and he remembers that he's not exactly a single King anymore. Despite what all she sees now, and any rumors to the contrary, people don't usually end up in his bed.

He'll get to the pants stage of getting dressed before commenting, although the thread of amusement is there before. "What? Making sure I'm real?"

She doesn't think she's going to say anything to him, but it doesn't feel too dangerous... and he had caught her staring. Slowly, she pushes herself up, pulling the covers up over her chest despite the fact she had curled into that sad sleepy ball still fully dressed in her robe and 'nightgown' below.

"Sorry..."

Those scars. She's not sure if she should bring them up, or play it off, or what. Maybe he truly is just that vicious, and they're just proof of it.

"It's... early?" She turns to blink at the partially drawn curtain cutting them off from his balcony. ....Really early.

Don't pay attention to his back when he shrugs, then, Dove. It's dangerous-

"Couldn't sleep any longer." Maybe if he'd actually taken the bed, he might have slept more, but no. Arm chairs aren't that great, apparently.

There's a faint shift in how all those scars look, once he pulls another of those loose thin tank tops on. Sort of smoothing out, or blending them with the rest of his skin. Now that she's seen them she probably could pick them out, but someone else?

".... Did they send any clothes with you?" Zaveid stares at his own wardrobe like, wait, I forgot something.

There's a pang if guilt at that, but she reminds herself that he had chosen that himself. Even still, "it's your bed... you could have slept in it."

At least a little sleep has completely dimmed that snap in her voice. That and the sight of those scars...

She looks back at him, still sure of what she saw, even though now his skin looks... smoother? How...

"Um...." She blinks, glancing down at herself. "I think a few trunks were supposed to be brought today..." Lest she fall victim to the demon seamstress again.

Zaveid just kinda 'huh's at that.

"Dunno if you wanna, but you can borrow something if you want to look about before your stuff gets here." He rolls up the towel, tossing it into a laundry hamper.

"I'm going to the kitchen. You can either come along or get something sent." Aaaand he's wandering off like that.

Sure isn't awkward at all.

... There's a phone on the bedside table. It has a few named buttons instead of numbers, though... Staff and Kitchen being two.

She's. It entirely sure what to make of it, but she is about to thank him when he just... drifts away.

....well, then...

For a few minutes, she just sits, running her hands over her face where she sits perched on the edge of the massive bed. So much for keeping up a 'honeymoon' appearance...

She decides, eventually, on calling down to have breakfast brought up, pushing aside the blankets and heading toward the bathroom to wash up the second the phone clicks off. Maybe they'll bring it up while she's bathing...

Before disappearing into the bathroom, however, she does sift through the offered wardrobe, eventually selecting a longer looking tunic- much bigger than her, but easily belted and long enough for her to stay decent, at least, if she decides to wander. It's laid across the bed as she showers, hoping it won't seem too odd for her to go traipsing about in his clothing.

Not that he seems to wear it too often anyway.

Unfortunately for Dove, it seems like his staff is curious. Somehow, she's back out of the bathroom before there's any knocking and a cheerful (?) woman's voice announcing food is here.

Shoot.

She dresses quickly, then calls for whoever it is to come in, releasing her hair from it's safe, dry knot atop her head.

It's.... odd. The woman sounded cheerful, but that... void...

It's not any better when the woman actually enters. The pale blond woman is fond of pink and purple, by her asymmetrical clothes, and absolutely looks cheerful and maybe a bit mischievous.

But feels maybe a tiny fraction of that.

She gleefully wheels the cart in, glancing about the room, then pouts childishly at a lack of Zaveid. Who knows why.

Either way, she'll present breakfast with an over the top, hollow, flourish, then ask if the lady needs anything else-

She just stares at her, just confused enough to forget her manners for a minute. how is she so empty? Or is it just utter control over herself?

Either way, Dove is suddenly wondering if she should be on her guard against this woman in some way or another, even if she's technically in her own 'home'.

For now, she just thanks her, noting her pout and watching her bow. "Ah... no, thank you... Did the Kin- ... Zaveid not come downstairs...?"

It doesn't take long for her to look like pieces clicked together. And it doesn't help Dove figure out what's up with this lady.

"I must have just missed him!"

"Ah..."

Well, no help there. She watches her a moment longer, then moves to where she's put down the tray, taking a seat next to it and picking up a piece of toast with no hesitation- as a royal should do. "What's your name? " she asks, hunting down jam on the tray before adding, "I'm afraid I don't know very many of the staff just yet..."

And her 'emptiness' is making her wary.

"Ah? Someone who doesn't know about the great me?"

Honestly, if there's a alignment for her, its probably mischief. Not quite good natured, not quite malicious, she's here to poke fun and make people uncomfortable-

"I am Mazhigigika Miludin do Din Nolurun Dou~!" With another flourish.

Blink.

"That's... quite a name," she admits, unsure if she'll even be able to shorten it. "I...um..."

How does one even follow that up?

"Thank you." A tiny salute, toast in hand, to make it obvious.

She laughs, still weirdly hollow, and dips into a deep bow.

"If my lady needs anything else, she can call for me!" And somehow the way she says it makes it seem like she expects the full name.

Either way, she'll gather up the cart and head out, shutting the door softly behind her.

Back to the awkward alone room you are, Dove.

Oh boy.

She offers a smile as the woman, whatever her name is, heads back out with the cart, waits until the door is shut, then bites into the toast at hand.

Oh. Boy.

She takes her time with breakfast, wondering if she should stay here and wait for the King or if she should take advantage of the unsupervised time to explore. The latter wins after a fair amount of time, and she stands, careful to be sure she's at least mostly presentable, then heads out of the room, wings hidden from sight.

It isn't long, and only a few staff members later, before she finally finds herself peering into what appears to be a library. Odd how empty it is, but her eyes do light up at the sight of the neatly organized shelves... row... after row... after row.

Rows and rows and rows of neatly organized shelves obviously means there's someone about who likes them that way.

Whether she stays at the door, or actually ventures in, a mildly irritated presence moves closer. Although it mostly seems the irritation of a librarian who likes their domain exactly one way, and sees visitors as likely to disrupt that.

Hope being casually appraised by an albino demon (?) isn't too alarming, because he's not likely to say anything before just. Studying her. Is she a mess maker, or is she not...

She does eventually wander in, very obviously at a loss for where to even start. Zaveid had called her out... while her council had sort of been training her all this time, her studies about the low had been... broad and vague at best. Even if she were to explore the city, she wouldn't have the slightest idea of where to begin...

She notices the man watching her and turns to study him in return. ....fallen? Surely that's what he is... too familiar in aura not to at least be partially angel, but those eyes.

"Hello..." she finally greets, waving a little. She wonders if introducing herself is even necessary...

There's a bland lack of recognition for a couple seconds, then a little click of ah, he knows who she is.

And by the lack of any other change, it doesn't matter to him that she is the archangel.

He nods slightly - yes, he heard you, no, he doesn't care to greet you back.

Right before it would be horribly awkward, he looks deeper into the library.

"I keep a catalogue." And perhaps a hint of 'if she messes with his organization, there will be problems between them.' also surprise, he has a very deep voice.

Ah... She nods, confused by the declaration but wary of his unspoken warning all the same.

And mildly captivated by his voice. She definitely hadn't expected that.

"I see... I'm guessing that makes you the head of this library," she assumes, making her way to him. "Do you think you might have the time to help me?"

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