Snippet #1473693

~~~DANTE~~~

"Ah, then we should find another place so that milady may slap me till her heart is content," he enjoyed the flush of pink his words had brought about to her cheeks, "I do deserve a beating, truly. Milady is correct to infer that I have been naughty. In truth, a woman may begin by resisting a man's advances, but ends by blocking his retreat." Her anger only made him want to goad her along more and see how far she could be pushed before she did slap him.

Nasrin Cavendish was rather appealing when blushing with fury and ire. Now this is what he had been missing for the past while -- a woman who could make a stand for herself without the need to reach for the smelling salts.

"Offer me riches and power beyond the scope of my humble imagination, and I would be a wealthy man." Dante was not staggered by her words, nevertheless his speech held a sliver of sharpness. "Offer me a strong-willed woman to love, and I would gladly live a beggar."

It was no lie. Lying had never done him much good -- seldom did Dante ever have the need to tell a falsehood. Most knew him for what he was: a criminal, a skirt-chaser, and many other such niceties. Those who did not know him for what he was soon found out. Momentarily he flicked his eyes from Nasrin and to Isabel Greyhardt.

Gods! He was surrounded on all sides by bewitching women that he barely had time to lavish upon them all. Ah, women. They made the highs higher and the lows more frequent.

Dante's mouth was sealed shut the moment the angered words of Prince Lionel were thrown over into Nasrin's trajectory. Much as Dante would have enjoyed continuing to pester her, he did not cherish the idea of getting his ass into hot water. Royalty he had to be careful around, lest his neck end up on a chopping block and his head in a basket.

"I will be seeing to the safety of the Princess Adelaide and Prince Raban," Dante managed to say through lips half shut, "I will hope to see you at the feast, sweet Rin." With those last words, he took his leave.

~~~NUALA~~~

The unconscious Queen was no worry of Nuala's. Tending to weaklings who collapsed after an exchange of sexual euphemisms had not been a trouble assigned to her. These people know nothing. In the North, if two clan-mates desire to rut, they do so. What is the point of talking about it first? It only delays the inevitable. Nuala did not comprehend a thing.

The moment that the opportunity to get on the move presented itself -- when the son of the Queen ushered all out of the throne room upon her fainting -- Nuala was gone in mere seconds. She kept to the walls and circled round the room, never taking her eyes of the man she had to watch.

Her feet brought her to the door and she stood there off to the side, waiting for the ebb of people to pass through the doors. Being jostled by bodies held no appeal to her. Nuala did not very much enjoy the company of others and neither did she revel in their proximity.

The blonde man strode past her and threw her a sideways look and a quick smile. Nuala's scowl was magnified at that. Speak your mind and save me your smiles. She would have said had he stopped in front of her.

She took a few seconds to allow a distance to grow and unfold between the two of them before gliding around the frame of the door and tailing his steps. If he was to look back over his shoulder he would not see her, not unless she wanted him to. For now Nualla wanted to stay out of sight.