silk and sway(tots an m)
 

second in line for the throne. ambros is to marry a duke's daughter. he is against the marriage but the swanson family holds an important tract of land necessary for trade. if he does not marry the girl his kingdom will have to fight the duchy of swanson and though they would not be unconquerable at this time the money and men it would take to destroy them would be a blow to the kingdom that could take years to recover from.

this thread is rated m for mental abuse adult enough content and just a plain ol' asshole of a prince

ATTENTION; if you would like to know what the strange phrases and words used when referring to living-space mean please visit here; http://www.castlesandmanorhouses.com/life.htm

"I don't want to go, Mother. Avery should be going instead of me, she was the one promised to the duke, not me. It isn't fair." "...I understand why you are upset, but please do not be cross. She decided her heart laid with that...bohemian rather than with her family. It cannot be helped." His attempt at arguing against his mother was cut short, the tightening around his torso only allowing him enough breath to offer a squeak. "Sorry my lord," The maid said flatly, still pulling at the thick cords. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, the marquess took in a lungful of breath before the help was able to tighten the corset further. "And you could not recruit the help of a relative instead?" Leveling his eyes in the mirror to look at his mother, he was matched with her own gaze. He could see her offer a sigh, clearly having answered this question numerous times. "The duke has seen your sister. If anyone aside from you went in her place he would take notice." With lips pursed, and breath taken away again by the relentless maid, the man was confronted by only himself. At a mere glance anyone could have easily mistaken him for his sister, and his sister for him; Only if one were to look at the fine details could they see the difference between the two of them. Letting out a sigh of his own, he straightened as the maid tied off the strings of his corset. As he peered into the mirror he could see his new found curves, and couldn't help the thoughts that flooded his mind, and were almost instantaniously voiced by his mother. "You really do look look like her." Pulling his gaze from the rounded edges of his body, he locked eyes with his mother against through the mirror before turning to greet them again. Stepping forward with arms outstretched, the marquess kindly took the woman's hands into his own. "It is a blessing given our situation. Praise the gods you had twins." Receiving a smile for himself, he allowed for one of the frail hands to fall from his grip before turning to look at himself in the mirror again. "When do I leave?"

he had been sulking for days. in the armory, in the stable, at dinner, the thought of a marriage to the snotty heathen swanson girl angered him greatly. he did not wish to marry under rank and he did not wish to marry heretic hill-witches and so when a servant came to whisper nervous words of his soon-to-be wife's carriage being seen over the horizon he was quick to find the upper turrets. he would not greet the girl but he still wanted to see if she was as awful as he recalled

"All of this clothing is really necessary?" The man questioned as he itched at the hem of the chemise before his hand was swatted away and the garment was straightened once again. "Yes, my lord. If you are going to play the part of a woman you must wear everything they normally would." Allowing for his face to slip into a displeased scowl, he slouched back to rest against the seat of the carriage he lifted a finger to pull the curtain from the small window so he could peer at the quickly nearing castle that laid before them. That is, until he was chastised once again. "Ladies do not scowl or slouch, my lord. Fix your posture" Turning his gaze back to the stern face of his handmaid, he distorted his face into a look of displeasure as he sat up once more, though he did not wipe the look away from his face. "Help should not be telling a marquess what to do, but you are doing it anyhow. I should be allowed to slouch if I wish." His testing of the woman was cut short as the carriage slowed to a stop at the entrance of the castle. With the scowl wiped clean from his face and his posture corrected, the door of the freight was opened to reveal one of the duke's many butler's bowing. Calmly stepping free of the ride's cabin, he offered a lady-like curtsy to the man before heading for the stairs of the manor

it took nearly an hour for the carriage to arrive and it did so in a most plain and unassuming way. adjusting from his slump he peered out of the narrow window and watched as three figures came out. he could see all three were female though only the one in green caught his eye. even at a distance he could see she was lovelier than he last recalled though that could not forgive her nature. he did not blink as she offered her courtesies and entered the castle though as soon as she was out of sight he was quick to head down and catch another glimpse.

The thoughts that first penetrated his mind upon entering the lavish manor was the sheer beauty the foyer held. Every drapery or textile that decorated the walls complemented with the colors hiding deep in the woods that made up both the floor and the stairs, and the amount of intricacy was astounding. Though, even his attention was pulled away from the room as both the duke and duchess joined him and his handmaid. Offering the each of them a deep curtsy, he was rewarded with dips of lesser depth, though just as equal respect before they immediately spun off into questioning. At first their inquiries were simple and habitual, and he could answer them himself, but as they progressed he required the help of his maid, who picked up the questioning in stride. Given the brief period of freedom from conversation, the marquess decided to all his gaze to wander 'round the room to further take in the details. Eyes gazing along the rich wood and dark stones that made the walls and floor of the foyer, he could feel a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, though it was quickly suppressed. Continuing on to follow the rotund shape of the stairs, eyes taking in the elaborate details of the warm wood, his sights were interrupted at the head of the stairs, a single foot sticking into his path of sight. Lifting his gaze along the couture of the wall, the marquess paused only when the onlooker's face came into view. Peering back with a look of curiosity and piqued interest, he couldn't help trying to recall where he'd seen the man before.

he was halted in his staring when her eyes alighted on something and a small quiver of a smile flashed on thin pale lips. he felt a twinge of desire for those lips though he was reminded of a quick serpent's tongue and unlady-like behavior more suited to a fisher's daughter than an earl's only marriageable daughter. luckily for him the smile was quick to be put away and he could go back to watching her take in the sights of the hall. she did not pause again until she found him and blankly stared as if she did not know who he was. he felt offended by her lack of remembrance and scowling turned away up the last few steps to the landing. he would take the servants' stairs down to the kitchen and escape out to the garden later, there was nothing else for him to see here

As the man departed from his place upon the stairwell, he couldn't help but wonder why he chose to leave so soon. However, his contemplation was cut short as the duke addressed him and pulled him from his thoughts. "We both hate to greet and leave, but I am afraid my wife and I have prior engagements we must attend to. You are welcome to explore and take a look around, and if any questions befall your mind please ask the help and they shall attend to you. Your chambers are upstairs, and they can direct you there was well. We shall see you at dinner this eve." As the duke offered him a bow, he quickly responded with a curtsy which was then mirrored by the duchess. Watching the two of them depart, he was soon left alone with his handmaid, to whom he offered an expecting look. "Where to first, my lady?" Donning his scowl from the carriage only long enough to show the woman his displeasure, he lifted his skirt to keep it from dragging across the ground before he started down the hall.

he ended up getting sidetracked in the kitchen and did not leave until he had gotten a kiss from the cook's wife and had a kerchief of roasted nuts and candied fruit. feeling his spirits lifted he continued to the garden, not to brood as he originally planned but to eat his treat. if mother knew he was still being coddled by cook and his wife there would be hell to pay indeed

The halls were as plain as the ones at home, and did not offer as much beauty nor were they as enticing as the foyer. By suggestion of his handmaid, they left the narrow halls and took to the gardens, but the marquess was promptly abandoned by the maid, being told that she only had to speak with the mansion's help for a short moment. With a glower having masked his features, he pushed away the feelings of abandonment and decided to attempt enjoyment. With the prismatic colored flowers sprawled in their beds on either side of the curving paths, his efforts of attempted indulgence proved positive, and being swayed by the lovely poseys and perennials he failed to see the prince snacking away only a few rows over.

he paid no mind at first to the sound of feet in the garden, it was not his place to care about those whose jobs it were to make the castle livable but when he saw a flash of green he came to attention. the swanson girl was here rooting through his flowers. angrily he stood leaving the food on the stone bench. when the lass broke off a flower however it was the last straw. taking the few short steps through the foliage he came up behind her and bending down curtly grabbed her by a thin wrist. "what are you doing in my personal garden? you have no right to be here heathen woman"

While each flower he saw was visually appealing, he could not help but be lured closer by the flowers of a blooming blueberry bush. The sweet scent was particularly admirable, and the white orbs hanging from the stem were so intreguing that he could not help but pluck one for himself. As it was lifted closer to his face so he could smell the intoxicating berry-like scent, he was cut short by the strong hand the wrapped itself around his wrist, ceasing his movement. Turning to look over his shoulder at the man who had been present in the foyer, he allowed for the bloom to fall from his grip, spiraling down to the path. Pursing his lips worriedly, he looked at the man nervously as he offered his answer. "I was unaware this garden belonged to you, my lord. Had I known I would not have ventured here..."

they both watched as the blossoms fell to the ground though he was the first to look back up. "you wicked liar, in two years you have not forgotten i am certain. you simply like destroying the flowers, even now days before you are to be married and expected to be a proper woman you play in the dirt like a child or a slave." he sneered, "your kind are all no better than animals digging in the mud though, it is too be expected"

His eyes lingered on the fallen blossoms as the thrown comments rang in his mind, immediately bringing back memories as a child when the near same insults were slung. The same anger that he'd discovered years ago started to bubble up, and he was half tempted to swing a punch at the crude man, but with so much depending on him he decided against it. Instead, he tried to recall the words of his sister. "If you believe that enjoying the flowers makes one as lowly as a slave, then why would you have a garden all to your own?" Biting lightly at the corner of his lip, the man thought of his next words intently. "Besides, what would be the point of destroying the garden of the place I would soon live?"

he recoiled slightly at the words. "still with your adder's tongue too i see, there is nothing low about enjoying a garden if you keep your hands out of the dirt." letting go he stood straighter. "all the same this is no garden for you, this is my private yard for me alone, you would not be privy to this even after we are married and certainly you are not privy to it now"

With his wrist released from the strong grip, he pulled it close to his chest as he turned around to look at the man in full. Now armed with the knowlodge of who the man was, it seemed so foolish that he did not recognize him right away, the prince's features being ever reminding of his visits as a child. Lifting his gaze to his husband to be, he gave an attempt at swaying his decision with a flit of his eyelashes. "Not even once we are wed? That seems rather selfish of you."

those eyes again. he gritted his teeth though he did not look away. "no. you will have yours, i will have mine, there is no more sharing of this than bed-chambers, it is not proper little heathen." finally he looked away. "on the mater of propriety, where are your servants? you are a woman, you should not be alone"

Though the man looked away, the marquess continued to gaze at him, eyes taking in the details of the matured face in stride. "My lady of waiting left to speak with the help of the manor, and sent me here to keep me occupied while she finished her business." Shifting his weight, he could feel the tightness of the corset squeezing at his torso and let out a small huff. "She told me she would be returning shortly, though she seems to be running long..." Placing his gaze back to the door of the manor, his thoughts now captured by the truth he'd just spoken. "Perhaps I ought to go find her, it truly is improper for a lady to be without her maid," His voice fell to little more than a murmur as he turned back to face the prince. "I will see you at dinner this evening?"

feeling the conversation move to safer grounds he relaxed slightly though he still did not dare look at her lest she still was making eyes at him, "i would suppose as much, it is a dinner in your honor, you are expected to come and be seen by the household."

He felt amused by the blush he could spot playing at the cheeks of the prince, even though he found himself getting flustered as well. While he knew by hindsight that he would catch the attention of many on his visit to the duke's palace, he was still taken aback by being shown off as an exhibition during the dinner. What pride could anyone take in living such a life, being paraded about like this? He felt as though he was some delicate flower in a showcase, whose sole purpose was to be shown for all to see. Feeling the blush begin to recede with irritation and the indignation of being paraded around, the marquess turned his eyes back to the prince a he offered a half smile. "Well I assure you I will be there this evening, and I will make sure to dress my best. Best to impress." Dipping into a curtsy, he offered the prince a smile and a subtle wink before heading off towards the castle to locate his missing lady in wait.

he stayed in the after she left and even went so far as to retrieve the plucked flower though he crushed it as soon as he realized what he was doing. turning away he stomped over to where the sweets lay and tossed the ruined blossoms on top. "damn witchy thing"

"Are you sure this is the best dress to wear this evening? It seems to favor the bust and well...I am afraid I have none." Watching his figure grow slim in the mirror once again as the maid tightened the strings of the corset giving him the true illusion of both bust and hips, he pursed his lips curiously. "By the time your outfit is complete you will appear to have one, which is what we are aiming for." Lifting his hands to cup at the top hem of the corset, he was surprised to find just enough slack that could easily pass for breasts. That is...small ones, but breasts none the less. With the final string of the corset tightened and tied off, the maid pulled him from his temporary fantasy by nudging him to step into his gown. Watching with careful eyes as the deep plum colored cloaked his pale and hardly masculine body, the marquess could not help but feel as if his appearance had been truly transformed from himself to his sister. Minus the adder tongue. With only a brush of powder, a pair of painfully tight shoes shoved onto his feet, and a wig pinned to his head, he felt ready to brave the crowds and scrutinizing looks that were sure to be present at dinner. Dipping into a heavily flourished curtsy towards the maid, he started towards the door with a blank faced maid following behind.

he would be lying if he did not admit she was beautiful even by the low flickering light in the dining-hall. the fabric she wore looked as black as any mourning dress until it grew close enough to the flames spread all about and glowed a red so dark as to be blue or pitch underneath. he wondered if the dress was worn to spite or to tease. as she daintily took her seat and gave him a long blank inquisitive stare he settled on it being a threat

Though he could feel many of the guest’s gazes focused on him as he swished into the dining hall, though only one slate colored pair was caught in his sight. The look seemed so curious, but not entirely innocent, and it stole his interest immediately. With heels clicking softly against the wood of the hall as the marquess slowly stepped towards his seat, the narrow width of his shoes keeping him from moving any faster without taking a tumble to the floor. Truth be told? He hated the shoes, and all the others he’d brought as well. With his long dresses and gowns, he pondered how hard it would be to go barefoot, or wear his own shoes underneath. He liked that idea, but it just was not possible without having someone take notice. Which, would only end in question of his ability to act as the prince’s wife. Shaking the thoughts from his head with the slightest shake of his head, his attention was brought back to the present just in time to see one of the help pulling his chair out. Taking his seat as lady-like as he could manage with the tight contours of his dress and his heels. By the time he’d taken his seat, many of the stares he’d managed to grab as he entered had found something better to offer their attention to. Though, the same one that had taken his attention originally, caught his gaze again. Allowing for an amused smile to play at the corner of his lips, he could not help but flutter his eyelashes at the prince whilst offering an inquiring gaze.

he flushed and angrily turned away at the woman's insolence. it soon found it's way back after a few moments though and he was greeted with a surprised look instead, carefully he pulled his face back into it's earlier inconspicuous staring. he would hold her gaze until she submitted

The prince’s pride was readily visible through dusky eyes and visible actions, and it amused the marquess. He could not help averting his gaze from the prince to pay his proper respect to any who offered words or questions, though his sight always jumped back to the intent gaze that seemed to be fixated on him. As everyone began to navigate towards their seats for the eve, he found a comfortable break in the conversations, and took the opportunity to look back at the prince. Offering a coy smile and a slight raise of his eyebrows, he watched curiously for the response he was to receive.

she ws certainly the viper he remembered but the tricks she played now were a woman's tricks and not a child's. he was growing accustomed to the the glances but when she stopped to make those eyes again he felt the heat rise in his face and hastily left the table. he would not admit his shame in losing

The dinner seemed much less amusing after the prince left. He was bothered that he decided to leave over something so menial, but the other guests seemed much less interested in his common antics. His mind remained plagued with thoughts of the prince and his early exit, even when he was ushered along with the rest of the women as they left the dining hall. Deciding he’d make an attempt to question the prince on his evasive when they ran into one another again.

he wandered through the halls aimlessly until the eating portion of meal was over then found his legs carrying him towards the women's quarters where he took up guard. common sense told him that as a future member of the house his bride-to-be would be with other ranking females opposed to the hall where guests were kept. he did not have to wait long before his gamble paid off and the sound of chattering signaled the arrival of the flock. he made sure to stay out of sight

The prattle of the women was stimulating, not at all what the marquess was used to hearing when he remained at the table with the men. They did not speak of political issues or their experiences in their bedchambers, but rather they enjoyed to share the gossip they gathered amongst the help or those who came to visit the manor. Making the decision that he wasn’t completely swayed to the women’s way of conversing, the marquess also determined that given time he would soon come to understand and participate with them as avidly as their seasoned members. Having fallen free of their conversation into his own thoughts, he was pulled back when words of the prince and his sudden exit were brought up in the lady’s conversations. Lending an ear, he turned his full attention to those leading the chatter. “It’s rather unfortunate that he left the table so early in the dinner, usually he at least sticks around long enough to offer a word or two to the conversation, but today he gave none.” “It truly is unfortunate. I only wish I knew why he decided to leave so early this evening, it was a very important dinner. He was expected to be there just as much as Lady Avery was. Don’t you agree?” He was provided with a glance or two from the dolled up girls, and realizing that he was expected to give a response he nodded. “Yes, I truly would have expected for him to stay, at least for this eve’s dinner, since it was one of importance to me. But what can a lady do?” Earning a handful of chuckles from a few of the ladies, the marquess allowed for a smile of both amusement and relief to cross his features as he realized his words were taken so easily.

the woman's words angered him. it was her fault he had left entirely and yet she was laying grief on him for not being there? only years of spying on others kept him from giving himself away to confront the vile little water nix and call her out on her feigned ignorance. as she drew closer and entered into the chambers he also realized this would not be to way to catch her either, not with a crowd. as quietly as he came he left the woman's hall again to his garden to rethink his plans on figuring out what her motives were and getting her to stop without the shame of doing it in front of others

The women all fell away from the group as they felt ready to retire, their evening of joking and gossip having tired them out to their fullest. With his lack of participation the marquess was left still willing to talk in chat, but none of the ladies remained for him to engage in conversation. Sending a glance down the hall towards the doors of his bedchambers, the idea of retiring so early did not appeal. His mind drew to the judgement of taking the peaceful hours he had remaining, and using them to finish his abruptly ended exploration of the morning. Turning back to the stairs, he quietly clicked back down the richly colored stairs to find his way back out to the garden

he was hardly settled when the door to the garden was opened and a familiar figure softly made it's way towards him. quickly he stood to meet her. "again you are sneaking into my garden, you insist on tormenting me with your rude heathen ways"

He’d thought the gardens would be kept all to himself, the beauty of the night being for only him to enjoy, but his fantasy was stolen away by the words that penetrated the air. All his eyes could manage to capture in the inky night was the pale face, but it was enough. “It truly is not all intentional.” Swishing closer to the prince, he carefully folded his hands at the front of his dress. “Though, I only came out to the garden because I did not wish to sleep, and the flowers seemed so beautiful in the moonlight.” Blinking his eyes to better try and see the prince in the dark, he shifted his weight and cocked his head to the side. “I did not expect for you to be here though, you disappeared at dinner. I would have expected for you to have retired to your chambers.”

her cordial tone and demure pose threw him momentarily but he quickly gathered himself and offered a biting retort. "what? and admit defeat? i do not know what you are trying to achieve but you will not win against me"

The harsh word took him off of his ruse for a moment, his usually quick tongue falling flat as he thought of a valid thought. “When someone is sure to win, the easiest thing for their opponent to do is admit defeat.” Casually brushing a hand across his cheek to brush away a deviously out of place strand of hair, he cleared his throat. “If I were in your position I would simply accept my loss and move on.”

her insolence truly was a woman's now and it was as much alluring as infuriating. closing in the last bit of distance he grabbed the hand and held it aloft. "i am your lord and in three days time your husband. what kind of man would i be if i submitted to you a wife?" pulling the hand closer he kissed the palm. "worse even than that, you would make a habit of it then and i would have to get rid of you"

Even he could not contain the blush before it spread across his cheeks; The soft slip of the prince’s lips across the underside of his hand causing for chills to echo down his spine. “Of course it would become a habit. If I could win once why would I ever stop competing?” Allowing for a smile to slip upon the corners of his lips, he tilted his head ever so slightly, sending the same devious strands cascading back across his cheek.

"then it is settled, we will stop this game now or i will lose my wife before i am wed." looking over the fingers he saw a dark curl against the stark white skin of her neck. "though it is a shame"

The curls of his wig tickled his neck, and lifting a free hand, he brushed them back. Still, the distracted voice of the prince stole his attention. Lifting his brows curiously, the marquess inquired. “What is a shame, my lord?”