Private Tales At Her Patron's Table

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
The mage escort her patron sent to help her get to Alliria was not the talkative type. After using the portal stone near Elbion, they arrived in Allir shortly, but still had a carriage ride to Lord Iskandar's estate. Not finding any conversation, Virdalia pulled the curtains of their carriage window back and decided to take a look around the city and ponder all the things she had learned in her first semester at Elbion College. Firstly, she noted upon arriving in the city that the seal on her inner thigh began faintly pulsing. In her engineering courses, she had noted the strange seal pulsating on occasion. Most notably when she crafted her creations and thought to herself that it could be useful to her lord. She also noted that those creations specifically seemed to always come out perfect and operating at peak efficiency.

The seal looked like an exact replica of House Iskandar's insignia brandished on her inner thigh. However, unlike a brand, it was not raised, but rather incredibly smooth and somewhat cool to the touch. Whenever she felt the pulses of energy as she did now, without looking she knew it was very faintly glowing with an amber light mirroring the hue of Petrus's eyes. Its meaning remained a mystery, yet she believed this power could be shaped into something worthy, to allow her to make a creation to honor House Iskandar. Still, she could not ignore how it quickened whenever her thoughts wandered to him, to Lord Petrus Iskandar himself.

Which was probably more often than they should, he had been sending her letters and other correspondence on occasion asking about her progress, learning what she knew, and were generally laced with a polish of formality. Each word dressed in courtesy, yet beneath them lingered something... warmer. Between the lines, in pauses and signatures, desire shimmered. Not yet confessed, but undeniable in each exchange between them. She fantasized often about using the stones to come see him, without invitation, just to be near with him. However, she knew he was a busy man and she herself often had late nights studying for her next examination or meeting with friends and colleagues. So, she never got that chance.

When she got the news that Petrus invited her to visit him in Alliria, she was ecstatic. She had spent the last few weeks thinking about this day and had even gone into town to buy some clothes with her friends for the affair. Under her black cloak, she wore a gown of deep crimson silk, the fabric clinging like liquid fire to her lithe form. She had gained some weight while there and her malnourished form was starting to take the shape of a woman's. This was shown clearly in the bodice of her gown which embraced her figure with a sculpted precision, the neckline daring but not immodest. The sleeves were long and fitted and the skirt of the dress swept the floor. A slender slit along her leg revealed glimpses of her pale skin as she shifted in her seat. The deep red of her gown making her storm-gray eyes all the more arresting like lightning against a burning sky.

"Ready yourself, we are arriving." The quiet mage said brusquely.

As the large structure came into view, she began to anxiously wonder what kind of welcome she would receive from Petrus.


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(Image source: social sight)

Petrus Ritus Iskandar
 
Contrary to Virdalia's own efforts in procuring a refined dress and refining her figure the welcome she received from her Patron upon her arrival to his mansion was a quiet, personal.... intimate.... thing. A cadre of soldiers in platemail, burnished black and at parade quality of resplendence, would greet her. The trim of their armors inlaid with honest to goodness gold while they held ceremonial greatswords aloft in a display of strength and prowess. A trio of knights bearing the black and gold of the house on their livery would begin to trail the carriage upon her arrival until the very moment Virdalia made her departure.

As the young half-elf stepped foot out of the carriage a young man just a few inches taller than herself, and handsome in a beautiful way for a man, named Drystan would greet her. The younger man was a favored messenger for her patron, with chestnut brown hair and gold-hazel eyes he could no doubt woo many a beautiful woman of his own but he had his own reasons to give Petrus his allegiance. As such upon Virdalia's approach Drystan would bow and sweep his hand in an elegant gesture. His hair tousled just enough to lightly curtain his eyes as he greeted her.

"Lady Deuxstrom. Welcome home."

Turning to walk alongside Virdalia the attendant to her Lord would motion for the soldiers to follow them, three of the plate-clad men on foot on either side while the three knights walked slowly behind. Drystan would then cast a sidelong glance at her before flitting his eyes forward to the manor and remarking.

"You look well. Much more.... complete... than Lord Iskandar described. I trust your studies have been proceeding smoothly?"

Whether Drystan was truly in on Petrus's plans, the games he played with Virdalia, or was genuinely trying to make small-talk, the young human seemed friendly enough but given how heavily he served her Patron in some of his business well... chances were equally good of him being and not being at least somewhat involved. Perhaps he even had some inkling of Virdalia's desires, or not, either way his cordial smile and glimmering hazel eyes betrayed nothing as he added.

"Our Lord will be awaiting you in the main hall. There have been quite a few interesting visitors since you've been gone. Not the least of which numbering the Empress-Regent of Amol-Kalit herself."

Drystan would pause before clicking his tongue, smiling softly, and muttering as much to himself as to Virdalia. Almost as if he was daydreaming.

"Interesting times....."

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Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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Virdalia sat surveying the area before arriving, stunned at the display before her. Never had she seen such a massive display of wealth and power flourished like this. She knew that the Iskandar family name held power and weight, but to see it in front of her was nearly incomprehensible. Though she had tried to look the part, she still had no idea how to carry herself before these men laden in... wait, was that real gold? Seeing their intimidating military strength on what she thought was full display, she felt herself get clammy with fear. Those swords were just so big, there's no way they could swing them. But in surveying the men, she noted, they absolutely could and would if need arose.

There was just something about the greeting that unsettled her as she couldn't help but imagine the carnage those swords had seen and what it would feel like to be beneath one in her final moments. She fought hard to combat her rising anxiety. She tried to soothe herself with the thought that these men weren't here to kill her, but protect her, they were under the same banner serving the same lord and soon she would be reunited with him.

As her fear dwindled, the carriage came to a halt. With a pang of disappointment, it was not Lord Iskandar who greeted her but rather a quite handsome human man. As her eyes began assessing him, she thought to herself he must be quite the charmer. Unlike the lord's weathered charm and hard edged allure, the man before her was a refreshing type of dashing. His words though, did lighten her heart, home she thought to herself. A gentle smile found its way onto her face as she took the man's hand and stepped out.

She began to wonder what his relationship with Petrus was as he commanded the knights to follow with a natural ease. As they formed around the pair, she took brief glances between the men to survey their arms and weapons with the keen eyes of an engineer. Not to mention taking on the sight of the manor itself as they approached by foot, the imposing structure seemed to radiate ominous energy, yet inspired awe at the mastery of its craftsmanship.

As she began inwardly pondering whether the men's swords were wrought iron or tempered steel, the man remarked on her appearance and posed a question to her. She flushed a bit with embarrassment, she was still underweight but did work hard to present a better figure before arriving here, hearing that acknowledgment though was quite odd to the ears. A bit flustered she answered quietly and briskly, "Yes, t-they're fine..." and she pushed her hair back behind her ear in a sort of shy gesture blushing harder at the fact she stuttered. Scared to find judgment there, she flitted her eyes to him for a moment, but they revealed nothing to her behind his polite smile.

As the man remarked on, mentioning the stay of the Empress-Regent of Amol-Kalit, her back straightened. How could someone so small and unremarkable as herself ever dared to walk these halls, let alone call them her home? She felt like a single note in a symphony far too grand for her. Her heart filled with regret, thinking of how meager she was, how insignificant. Surely, Petrus had far weightier matters to attend to than herself, the thought hollowing her and filling her with doubt.

Eyes downcast, a brief flicker of vulnerability crossed her expression. She quickly masked that with composure as she ventured to the man timidly, "Um... excuse me sir, I never got your name. Also, please, you may call me just Virdalia, the lady title doesn't quite suit me. Are you sure Lord Iskandar has time to meet me today? I can just wait for him if need be, I would hate to take his time away if he has important guests to attend to." Her gaze flickered toward him, wary yet inquisitive.
 
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Drystan would give a good-hearted laugh at Virdalia's questions and her stuttering. His golden-hazel eyes seemed to dance with amusement as he mimicked her motion and tucked his own hair back. Albeit with much less timidity and more playfully mimicking her on purpose. He would then click his tongue, lace his hands behind his back, and look up at the manor as a fountain burbled peacefully at their approach.

"My my. The Lord Iskandar was doing you a disservice with how charming you are."

He would shake his head and turn to look at Virdalia as they walked. Showcasing a remarkable sense of direction and balance to emote so expressively without breaking stride. He would give her a smaller, somewhat sad smile.

"Alas My Lady I have my orders. The Lady Virdalia Deuxstrom is to be brought before our Lord post-haste. After all if you are to be his aide and, indeed, aid...."

Drystan chuckled at his own pun before continuing so quickly it made the chuckle sound more rehearsed than genuine.

"... in managing his time."

Drystan would drift closer without missing a step and gently, playfully nudge Virdalia as his eyes danced.

"Of course you did not think your entire position would be attending galas with our Lord hmm?"

There was something just barely beneath the surface of his words. Some might think his words actually vicious, mocking even, but in truth Drystan meant them only in something close to a sibling-like level of teasing. Like hinting that you knew they had snuck out on a forbidden date and were being sloppy. Levelling his eyes at Virdalia his smile would widen just briefly before he sighed.

"No I am afraid your duties are largely going to extend to helping our Lord attend to all his business, adjust his schedule, and work rather closely with him on refining any further inventions or ideas you possess to the House's benefit. Which means....."

Clearing his throat the young man would now outright grin.

"We will be working rather closely together. My name, as you asked, is Drystan My Lady. Personal messenger for our Lord and I am the one who has been handling your correspondences on our end of things once they have passed out of the college's hands. Once you are more fully in the House's work, however, I will be relaying missives from yourself to the staff, as you will begin speaking for our Lord on what his scheduling is."

A brief heartbeat of a pause before Drystan turned away and commented idly.

"Quite the responsibility I must say.... but... goodness you are a charmer. Genuine stuttering, authentic politeness, humility in abundance...."

He sighed wistfully before suddenly his smile faded and he would glance at Virdalia rather seriously for a moment.

"Do try to hold on to those qualities as long as you can, hmm?"

By this point the two were most of the way across the courtyard, past a second fountain, and moving into an impressive archway.

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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Something about the man's laugh and the way he mimicked her left her feeling a tug of nostalgia for a life she hadn't lived. His teasing reminiscent of something akin to a little brother. She just listened as he went on with his jovial remarks, her body relaxing. As he nudged her, she let out a genuine soft chuckle, resisting the urge to reciprocate a playful push. Though when he began describing her duties, she once again felt anxiety knotting in her stomach as she fought to remain calm.

Working closely with the Lord when she was still so inexperienced was daunting, to say the least. Her jaw tightened a bit upon the reminder, but there was no room for weakness. She was determined to prove herself, to show she was more than capable and someone worth notice, so she kept her gaze ahead eyes shining with quiet resolve.

As the young man introduced himself, she had the realization that she was very grateful it had been him to meet her. His playful glee warmed her heart, and she thought inwardly that Lord Iskandar was good at picking his people. A man whose easy jokes and disarming smile made him incredibly charming, yet who also bore the immense responsibility of being Petrus's messenger gave her reason to feel hope. Hope that she may yet join him and prove her worth to the House Iskandar.

His compliments made her blush again shyly, she wasn't accustomed to praise and the attention embarrassed her. But when his smile suddenly faded, she caught a glimpse into another side of the man's personality. The sudden shift told her this was important advice, and she decided firmly to take it to her heart and not forget it.

"So, Lord Drystan..." She remarked, drawing out the word Lord to let him know she would reciprocate his formalities in a playful manner and smirked with a light bit of laughter, "Tell me about this place, how long have you been here? What's your story? You walk these halls like they belong to you, should I be curtseying?" Mirroring his sentiment earlier, she playfully nudged him with a slight mischievous smile and laced her hands behind her back, mimicking him now.

"Also, I truly do hope I won't be expected to remember every turn here for some time. I've already surrendered myself to being lost without you." As they entered the grandiose archway that left Virdalia amazed with the design and feat of it, she glanced over to Drystan waiting for his response.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar
 
Drystan would give a hearty laugh as she reciprocated calling him 'Lord' and waved a hand under his nose as if dispelling a bad smell from his presence.

"Now now Lady Virdalia THAT would be telling."

He met her gaze for only a moment and then shrugged, averting his eyes, and remarked.

"Our Lord may be as blunt as Morningstar to the skull but given my occupation I have had to get very good at keeping secrets. So you won't be getting anything out of me just yet. But the manor I can tell you a bit about."

Clicking his tongue behind his teeth, mouth closed, Drystan would look around for a moment before pausing at Virdalia's words and then feigning a dramatic swoon.

"Oh, what a confession! I'll be sure to sneak my own love letters into your quarters alongside our Lord's...."

He grinned sharply before snorting.

"As for the manor . It's been in the family for a few generations, good, solid foundations and a few surprises hidden away still undiscovered. As for the House itself in both wealth and reputation, from my understanding, it was keeping it's head above water when the late Lord Iskandar err... Petrus's father... was running the place. From what I understand Lord Petrus had a bit of a rebellious streak when he was younger, studied at Elbion, learned some fancy nature magic, and came back to inherit the family title when his father fell ill."

Drystan's smile smoothed into a grimace for a moment.

"In any case, his magic let him corner the market on wine and other expensive drinks, maintaining year-round production even out of season and matching demand effortlessly. Good news is that when your product is sold primarily to wealthy clientele your profit margins tend to be very generous. After that investments were made into infrastructure and, more importantly, land. Our Lord had the wise idea to buy land and then simply.... lend it to other enterprises."

Drystan stroked his chin.

"An interesting strategy that avoids a lot of dirty words in business circles. So what if you happen to lend the very land they operate on to other merchant houses? They work in markets you don't produce anything for like... say... lumber for instance. You're not technically in direct competition with them since House Iskandar does not possess a single lumbering operation in all the Allir Reach... but we do get continual revenue from a plethora of Houses that are."

Taking a slow breathe Drystan would shrug.

"So. We siphon off a bit of most the other House's earnings while avoiding any allegations of monopoly or attempting to over-centralize everything into our House. We are, as far as most of Alliria and the world is concerned, very wealthy vintners."

Drystan gave a dry chuckle.

"Not that other Houses haven't tried to copy the strategy but, in truth, only those on the Merchant Council have succeeded in replicating it to any degree."

Clearing his throat as he opened a door for Virdalia he would murmur to her quietly.

"Don't tell anyone just yet but rumors on the wind are that our Lord is finally maneuvering to secure a seat on the Council as well."

Drystan would shrug before following Virdalia into the doorway, leading her up a spiraling staircase, only to stop after several floors of walking up stairs. Drystan remained remarkably, oddly even, completely unphased by the continual stair usage and speak in that same, even tone, entirely unphased as they stopped before a thick wooden door.

"Here you will find our Lord's personal study in this wing."

Drystan would actually adjust Virdalia's dress and hair for a moment before smirking at her.

"Need to look your best, eh?"

Winking he would then knock for her and breeze past her down the stairs as Petrus's firm, commanding tone sounded from the other side of the door.

"Enter."

The study was large, circular room several stories off the ground. Petrus's desk sat on the right hand side from the doorway, facing leftward. Two chairs sat before it and a fireplace crackled gently even this early in the morning to Virdalia's right between the doorway and Petrus himself. Directly across from the door she entered from was a set of open double doors leading out onto a balcony overseeing one of the Manor's courtyards. From the walls a multitude of paintings depicting important figures to the House, including a stately one of Petrus himself, gazed down into the room from above.

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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She chuckled a bit watching his reaction to her words. As he faked swooning and made his remark about love letters, Virdalia's cheeks heated, "I would hardly call those love letters, and you read them?" She said quietly to herself, making note of that revelation. Still, determined to seem unruffled, she rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, a smile tugging at her lips. No matter how much he teased, she found it impossible to stay upset with him for long.

She drunk in all of Drystan's explanations with keen interest, curious to know more about her patron. At the mention of nature magic, she wondered if that was the cause of that stupor she felt during her presentation as he made the model for her to demonstrate. Had it been on purpose, had he been testing her? Or was it something else..? Unsure, she turned her attention back to the man. As she listened to Petrus's business model, she was struck by how thoroughly it had been crafted, every detail calculated to deflect any potential backlash.

However, the sheer amount of gold needed for those investments must have been staggering, again, she found herself baffled by the thought of it. Her mind drifted to the wineries, she’d have to visit one someday, study the craft, and see if inspiration for her own creations might strike. Then her ears perked at the mention of a spot on the merchant council, and the brief insinuation to keep it quiet. Entrusted with her first secret, she nodded in silent agreement between them not to mention it.

As they traversed the seemingly endless stairs, she could feel her stamina waning, yet the man remained completely unfazed. She was used to running all over a manor, albeit not one of this size, so she held herself fairly well but still found amazement in his complete ability to maintain his demeanor as they ascended. Standing before the study door, she couldn’t help but think she would have placed hers on the ground floor if only to spare herself such an exhausting climb.

A tremor of nerves coursed through her, leaving her skin damp and clammy as she braced for whatever awaited her beyond the door. She felt disheveled and all the thoughts she had been pushing away came running back into her mind about what Petrus would think of her, of her appearance and her capabilities. Yet when Drystan adjusted her dress and smoothed her hair with a brotherly air, she managed a warm smile, "Truly, thank you for your escort, I look forward to working with you greatly and hope we can meet again soon Lord Drystan." His playful wink drew a giggle from her as he walked away, but as she turned to face the door the weight of it pressed in on her again.

At the command to enter, her heart lurched, and she swallowed hard, hands trembling as she reached forward. As the door swung open, a wave of warmth from the fire washed over her. The faint scent of parchment and ink lingered in the air, carrying her back to long hours spent studying at Elbion. Timidly, without yet looking at the man she knew would be waiting for her, she turned around and closed the study door. Avoiding his gaze, she dipped into a low curtsey, unintentionally letting the folds of her gown fall open to reveal a flash of her pale leg through the slit as she spoke. "Thank you for your gracious extension to me, my lord. I am wholly grateful to be in your manor, and am ready to begin my work."

She couldn't help but think about the time they had spent together at the gala, and a deep blush spread across her cheeks, still struggling to meet his gaze. Rather than take a seat, she wandered over to the double doors and stared down into the courtyards below, leaning lightly against the frame. "You have a truly remarkable home Lord Iskandar" She murmured, voice tinged with awe, "From its design to its grandeur, you never cease to amaze me."

Petrus Ritus Iskandar
 
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Petrus did not look up as Virdalia began to speak and simply continued writing. But there was a subtle shift in his body language, the subtlest tilt of the head, that told her he was listening. Only once he finished the sentence he was writing did he raise his eyes to Virdalia and drink her in. Amber-eyed gaze sliding up her revealed leg to her waist, along the subtle curves and up the womanly bend of her chest and shoulders to find her gaze.

A gaze he held for only a moment before returning to his work as Virdalia walked to the doorway leading out to the balcony. Petrus looked... actually worse than when they first met. He had pronounced dark circles beneath his eyes and the lines of his face were harder, more sunken, no doubt due to a lack of sleep. All of this was confirmed when he spoke and there was a very noticeable, rough, gravelly undertone to his usual deep, firm voice.

"I have many remarkable homes but I am hardly the one who built them. I did not call you here for pleasantries or distractions Lady Deuxstrom."

He would motion to one of the chairs across from himself, ordering her to sit without a word.

"Business must come before pleasure, after all, and you exude the latter without limits."

Whether he meant this as a compliment, flirtation or even a light reprimand was entirely unclear. Perhaps none? Perhaps all three at once? Not giving her time to truly ponder it Petrus would slide a somewhat large leather-bound tome across the desk for Virdalia.

"A mock schedule of the next three weeks. Fourty-seven meetings with various minor houses over land dealings to finalize. Four new cistern extensions to be installed into the Aeon Plaza to account for recent damages. You'll note a block of six hours of free time every last-day of the week...."

A quill dipped into an inkwell before he began writing again.

"... and the recent addition of at least an hour per night to review my scheduling and...."

Only now did those amber eyes flick upwards to pierce pointedly into her own stormy grey ones. His words slower, more intent on HER specifically as he finished.

".... instruct you on your methods in handling it."

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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She stiffened at his rebuke, eyebrows furrowing for just a split moment. Tight lipped, she made her way over to where he was seated as she was listening to his words. Yet, instead of sitting in the chair, she perched lightly on the edge of his desk, shifting and crossing her legs so the gown fell just so, the slit parting to unveil her leg anew, as if by accident, or intention.

She noted he looked haggard, as though he hadn't slept and she felt worried for him for a moment. Resisting the urge to ask if he was okay, she remained silent to avoid "pleasantries" as he had so requested. As he handed her the tome, she took it and began to review the contents. In doing so, her hair that had been tucked behind her ear cascaded down, veiling her face in a soft frame as her eyes scanned the text. This really IS going to be a full-time job, she thought to herself. Feeling overwhelmed with balancing such an immense schedule, she felt a rush of relief knowing he would be guiding her every night. Every... Night... Her mind lingered on the thought for a heartbeat, but she quickly pushed it aside, refocusing on his instructions. Her goal was to impress him, not to give in to the stirrings of any otherworldly longing. "I... Look forward to receiving your tutelage, Lord Iskandar." She spoke quietly while briefly lowering her head for a moment in a slight bow, its purpose to show him deference but to also avoid his piercing amber hued gaze.

Since he had dipped his quill into the ink, she thought now would be an opportune moment to showcase one of her new inventions. "My lord, if I may, I have something I would like to show you. Strictly business." She carefully drew out a small velveteen box, opening it slowly. She had been practicing inventing and imbuing her magic energy within objects to create constructs that could do minor tasks among her other studies at Elbion.

As the box opened it revealed a small palm-sized brass construct, with the appearance of a spider. However, rather than eyes and mandibles, its head was the nib of a feather quill and abdomen had a small roll of parchment attached to it. Focusing, she closed her eyes and outstretched both of her hands towards the small metal creature. An amber-light glow spread from her hands, I just want this to work. The same light, warm and golden, spread from inside the spider-like automaton and soon the gears started humming and ticking to life.

She beamed with joy, and quickly took the inkwell that had been next to the machine in its box and opened it. The scribe automaton lifted its quill head and tilted it towards her waiting for its command. "Record the following; Lord Iskandar's schedule, please denote the writer as a Lady Virdalia Deuxstrom." It scuffled over on its eight legs to the inkwell and lightly dipped its head in. Using its backlegs, it unrolled some of the parchment and began scratchily writing the words out that she had spoken. "End recording. You see my lord, it records everything you tell it. Would you like to give it a try? All you have to do is say R-E-C-O-R-D the following, and it will begin writing. Say end and it will present you with your notes. I call it the Scribe Automaton, or 'Scrib' for short."

At her command, the spider neatly cut the parchment free and scuttled over, holding it delicately in its legs. She picked it up and, leaning toward Lord Iskandar, handed it to him with a flashing smile.
 
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Petrus would pause his writing and lift his gaze to Virdalia as she offered to show him something. Giving a singular nod of approval he would place the quill in the inkwell and lace his fingers upon the desk, saying nothing, and raise an eyebrow subtly at the small box on offer. This expression did not leave his face as the small contraption was presented. Looking much like a metal spider made of brass. A curious thing, really, but Petrus could guess to it's purpose simply by the parchment and pin attached.

Sure enough the creature wrote out what Virdalia dictated and, giving an approving nod, he listened to Virdalia's report on how the construct functioned.

"Useful, if not universally so."

Looking from the Scrib to Virdalia he would idly use a hand to pat the small automaton as if it were a housepet.

"Though at times there will be documents I wish for you to record where speaking them allowed would be.... inappropriate. House business is to be kept quite private and so while your Scribs could be quite valuable for private quarters such as these I fear they would be.... less so when out amongst the general public."

Drumming his fingers on the desk for a moment Petrus would glance sidelong at the Scrib and then turn his attention back to Virdalia.

"Record: The likeness of one Virdalia Deuxstrom to be committed to portraiture within the week."

Extending a hand his fingers would catch her chin and hold her, and her gaze, before subtly turning her head left to right as he continued to speak.

"A woman of subtle beauty marred by a lifetime of hardship. With a slim figure, eyes like the deepest of stormclouds and a mind sharper than the tip of a blade."

His hand would fan out to cup her cheek in full, fingertips tracing around her ear as he continued.

"Blonde hair the color of wheat pierced by ears showing her elven heritage. A beauty many women above her station would, and have, killed for."

He paused before removing his hand.

"End."

Standing from his desk Petrus would circle the desk, looking down at Virdalia for a silent moment, before offering her his hand.

"We will continue this later. I have been stuck in this office for far too long today. I can take some extra time to hear of your other ideas, at least for a while."

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Petrus Ritus Iskandar

His praise brought pride to her chest as she watched him assess her creation. Scrib seemed to glow brighter as he 'pet' the creature, the amber light emanating from him flaring for a moment. Then it patiently waited for its next command. As Petrus invoked it to start, it began inscribing his words directly. What he asked it to record though confused Virdalia, "A-a portraiture my lord, whatever would you need that for?" She began to think about what to wear and if she would even look good captured as she was in her current malnourished form. Scrib wrote down her words as well as his with a perfect precision, capturing every detail.

As his harsh fingers held her chin and flexed her head left and right, her breath caught in her throat. She began reminiscing about all the places those hands had been at their last meeting. His honeyed yet assessing words began melting her core, heat flaring inside her. When his palm widened to cradle her face, she lifted her own hand to meet it, a soft smile curving her lips. But when his touch slid toward her ear, a hushed, unbidden moan slipped from her, delicate as a sigh.

Then just as quickly as it began, the warmth from his hand on her was gone. She watched as he walked around his desk and held out his hand. She reached for it with a coy smile, her touch lingering as she let him lead, the contact warmer than mere courtesy required. "I am pleased you find Scrib useful my lord, that means much to me." To anyone watching, it was the picture of nobility, lord guiding lady. Yet to her, the contact felt heavier, as though every step tethered her more closely to him, his steady gait drawing her into his orbit.

As he lead her down the many picturesque corridors, she remarked "I know you did not create or design this place, but I cannot help but think it absolutely glorious. Every finite detail is the picture of grand architecture. The more I see, the more I marvel at the expertise it must have taken to create such a place. I confess, I am eager to see the sleeping quarters later as well." Her gaze remained scanning the features of the place, noting every column and crown moulding, art piece and torchlight.

"Lord Drystan was also telling me much of the place, of your business ventures. By the way, he was an excellent escort, if I can borrow him from you for a time it would be nice if he could help me navigate this manor. He mentioned some of your ventures, particularly the wineries. I would ask to sample your wine, but… we both recall too well how drink affects me." She nervously laughed, ensuring not to meet his gaze. "Still, I would love to tour one of your wineries, to see the craft of winemaking firsthand and perhaps even think of ways I might invent something of use to you. Would that be agreeable to you after I learn my aide duties?" She looked up at him, silver eyes shining with the luster of polished steel, as she waited for his response.
 
Petrus would take Virdalia's question in stride as they made their way down the stairs at a much more leisurely pace than Drystan had taken it earlier.

"A portrait will, of course, help to display your rising prominence and your worthiness of your new position. You are no longer a slave, and more than a free woman even. You already have power whether you realize it or not and to possess power one must learn to wield it properly. To play the games as they are meant to be played. Even if your entrance into them already broke a few rules......"

Petrus simply nodded as Virdalia commented on the architecture but said nothing. Perhaps, once, when he was a young lad he had also marveled at the places he called home, but no longer. Only Virdalia's mention of the sleeping quarters would earn a small raising of the eyebrow before he simply let the comment slide. Her referring to Drystan as 'Lord' did earn a small, chuffed chuckle from him as Petrus brought Virdalia to the dining room and pulled a chair for her out at the left hand side of his head seat.

Sliding Virdalia into place at the table Petrus would ring the staff with a small bell near to his own seat, which traveled via a string to another bell and brought the staff to them to bring them drinks. Petrus would then inhale slowly, a suppressed yawn, and give Virdalia another nod.

"I can arrange such a thing. Both for the wineries and Drystan's assistance. But for now...."

His attention turned to the two staff waiting patiently for their choice of food.

".... today will be the steak, squash and seasoned beans."

Before he let Virdalia give her own request as the staff poured them both a glass of wine.

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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Petrus Ritus Iskandar

Virdalia looked at the server, unsure of what type of food they had available here, "May I have just the squash and seasoned beans, no steak please." she requested with a polite smile. She held the glass underneath her nose and slightly inhaled, but waited for him to have a drink before taking one herself. Her palette wasn't quite refined enough to detect individual notes, but the wine seemed to have a good body to it.

"This smells delightful. If I may, I would like to share a few pleasantries. My time at Elbion has been so enlightening not only in my studies, but in discovering myself. I've learned what it feels like to finally have choices, to shape my days with a sense of freedom and found the discipline required to make those choices matter. I have also made a few friends here and there. With the resources you've awarded me, I have been able to invest into materials for my crafts and, well... perhaps indulge in a refreshed wardrobe, as you may have noticed."

Her cheeks warmed, but she didn't look away, "Your letters have also been a great source of strength, I often find myself replaying your words long after they've been read. I suppose what I truly want you to know is that you have changed my life in ways I'll never be able to repay, and I think of you more often than I'd like to admit." A small, fond smile curved her lips before she quickly followed with, "Of course, I mean as my savior and guide. Still... I know one day I'll be someone of real worth to you. I look forward to showing you my capabilities as an aide and to understanding more about this 'game' you speak of as well. If I may be so bold... how have you been, my lord?"

An indulgent aroma wafted around the room as the staff began filling the table with their requested meals. Her stomach ached with hunger, she realized she'd neglected to eat all day amidst the excitement. Composing herself, she began to eat in measured bites, carefully mirroring the formality Petrus displayed.
 
His eyes never left Virdalia as the staff departed. Even as she spoke of her time at Elbion, about her devotion to him and desire to better server him, her emboldened eyes were met only with a firm, predatory gaze. Like she was in the sight of some great jungle cat that was just tired enough to not directly pounce on her in the moment. Only the moment that the food arrived did he divert his attention to something he would devour before devouring her.

Her question, seemingly genuine, about his condition did give him pause though as he began to raise his fork. His gaze flitting back to her for just a moment before he looked forward, across the table, and gave a low, gravelly hum before answering simply.

"Busy."

Something told Virdalia that was not the exact word he had originally considered using but as he took a bite his expression was serious enough to ward off further inquiry. Indeed he seemed so deep in thought that he hardly ate a quarter of the food provided before setting down his utensils and turning to Virdalia.

"I trust you intend to finish your time at the college then?"

He continued cordially, even though there was obviously something pressing behind those amber eyes.

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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She watched Petrus for a moment, something about his body language and tone gave her the impression that he had more to say about the matter. However, he did not seem open to any further discussion on the topic. Watching as he only took a few bites of his food before asking her a question, she began to worry a bit. He hadn't seemed to have slept, and now wasn't truly eating.

There was clearly something pressing at him in some way she could not glean. She wiped her hands gently on a napkin before she reached across the space between them, fingertips brushing his hand in a grounding fashion, "My lord, I can see something weighing on you. Only when you're ready, I hope you will share a little with me. If there is anything weighing on you, you don't need to bear it all alone."

She withdrew her touch as to not discomfort him, and with a small smile she shifted the topic, "I hope to finish my studies there, I've already been learning so much about my power and craft. These constructs are only the beginning of what I believe I'm capable of. I feel I can achieve far greater heights under the tutelage of these mages at Elbion."

She continued eating, finishing the last bite on her plate before hesitating, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. With an almost girlish gesture, she touched her fingertips together. "There is one little thing, if I may ask... Is there anything sweet here? I'm afraid I have a dreadful sweet tooth, and I was secretly looking forward to spoiling myself with some Allirian desserts."
 
As Virdalia touched his hand Petrus would raise an eyebrow, his gaze shifting into something more reproachful, lightly disapproving, as her attempts to chisel through his emotional walls were noticed and denied. As she withdrew her touch he would nod a ghost of a nod.

"I am fine, it is your progress I am concerned with."

As Virdalia launched into explaining her accomplishments at Elbion and her confidence in her end goal he would nod, finish his wine, and then pause. The sight of the small half-elf nervous pressing her fingers together and timidly asking for some sweets made him.... disgusted. Though he did not let it show on his face he would gently place the wine glass down and glance to the kitchen door.

"There are. You may retrieve them at your leisure of course."

Even his eyes did not speak of his disappointment and disapproval in that moment. He had hoped Virdalia had begun to hone herself into a fierce, intelligence WOMAN and not the simpering, begging GIRL he had just witness her reveal herself as. He hoped, sincerely and internally, that that was just an act in an attempt to entice him. But it was the single, irrefutable most awful thing he had seen Virdalia do in his presence. But he showed nothing to her as he finished.

"Return to me once you have eaten your fill. I will be here."

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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She smiled, though she couldn't shake the sense that something in him had shifted. Perhaps he found the notion of dessert distasteful? Making a quiet note never to bring it up again in his presence, she got up and went to take a small taste of a renowned local dessert. When she finally reached it, she savored the bite with quiet delight. The simple joy warmed her, a reminder she finally had a place she could call home.

Virdalia sat back down, her silver eyes lingering on Petrus for a moment longer than necessary. Her next words were touched with gratitude but tempered by restraint, "That was wonderful... thank you." She let the warmth of her tone carry her sincerity but then straightened slightly, her posture returning to one of composure. "I feel refreshed now, I'm ready to return to matters at hand. Forgive the indulgence, my lord... it's the quieter moments of this new life that I treasure the most. But enough of my whims, it is you I wish to hear of. How have you fared?"

Her silver eyes met his amber gaze with a faint hint of curiosity. As she refocused her attention on him, she felt an odd sensation. Her seal pulsed on her inner thigh, the glow swelling until it illuminated the fabric covering it. "My lord, there is a matter I have been wishing to bring to your attention. During our last...meeting... something appears to have been set in motion within my magic. A seal manifested on my flesh, it is your seal. It responds when I call upon my craft glowing with a brilliance I can't explain," She paused before intentionally leaving out the aspect of it glowing when she thinks of him too often and measured her words carefully before continuing, "I have never encountered any such phenomenon. It doesn't cause me any pain, yet whenever it shines my creations take on a precision and elegance beyond my own skill. It's as though I am guided to serve your purpose. I cannot help but feel, in some way, that this bond compels my work toward you. Have you ever known of such an occurrence, my lord? Have you seen anything like it?"

She sat with a careful composure, slightly leaning forward to hear his response. Her silver eyes fixed on him reflecting both respect and a quiet reverence. Her lips parting slightly, betraying a hint of her nervous anticipation. Even in her composure, there was a magnetic tension in her gaze that showed every word uttered carried both duty and personal significance.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar
 
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As Virdalia returned and thanked him Petrus simply nodded, glad to see she was ready to focus on important matters. He was quickly disappointed as Virdalia repeated her earlier question and so he would reiterate firmly.

"I am fine."

Without an ounce more emotion than before. He did, however, raise a brow as Virdalia mentioned a specific matter to bring to his attention. He was expecting her to mention a specific invention or, perhaps, the wineries again. When Virdalia instead mentioned some sort of magical phenomena he would rumble a low, curious hum and would stand to move closer to Virdalia.

Noting the glow from beneath her dress he would kneel before her, bringing his eyes level with hers, and with a motion so abrupt, so bold, that it radiated casual ownership he would push the hem of her dress up and aside to bare her thigh and the glowing symbol there. Thick, rough hands would grip her thigh, his fingers brushing the glowing seal in slow, studious motions before he began to speak.

"This seems to be a facet of your own innate magical inclination. Given your proficiency with constructs it seems on some level, call it your subconscious or what have you, you required a firm system with which to truly focus your abilities."

Sometimes it was perhaps easy to forget Petrus was a very learned, very skilled mage. Especially when his fingertips caressed over Virdalia's thigh to trace the symbol in slow motions.

"Though why it did not come to the fore during your enslavement.... that remains a mystery."

Those amber eyes would slide up Virdalia's body from the symbol to her steel-grey eyes, staring into her, as if expecting her to have an answer for him.

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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She watched as the broad, imposing man rose from his seat and knelt before her. She made no move to resist him as he pushed her dress aside, exposing her. His hands claimed her thigh with unsettling control, each movement deliberate, like a beast measuring its prey. Her breath caught in her throat and heat flooded her cheeks. Biting her fist to stifle a whimper in a flushed, sultry gesture her silver eyes betrayed the storm of feeling rising in her as he explored the glowing seal, slowly.

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"Y-yes... the mages at Elbion thought the same... They had never encountered anything like it before. I am not entirely sure why it responded for you... maybe the bond only awakens when it's freely given... when it's welcomed." The glow surged brighter, humming with energy, her whole body thrumming in time with its power.

She steadied herself, forcing composure as she met his unwavering amber eyes. Her silver eyes flickered with a longing she dared not name as she whispered, "Please, Lord Iskandar.... The seal responds in ways I do not fully understand, it wasn't meant to be handled so freely." She shifted faintly beneath his hands, as though the slight movement might quell the heat building insider of her.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar
 
Petrus would nod slowly at Virdalia's whimpered answer, seemingly unbothered by her current state, and would lower his gaze to the seal as it flared with light and emotion. He was intrigued on an academic level more than he was willing to indulge Virdalia's barely restrained desires and as she whispered her meek objection he would plant a hand on her other thigh and softly push it away. Remarking in a low, focused tone.

"It may not be, but if it could bring harm to you in an emotional state then it must be addressed. You are, after all, mine and I will not risk harm coming to you."

With that protective, domineering statement made he would place a hand upon the seal and focus his own magics into it. Like a key entering a lock designed just for it that euphoric, alluring, calming sensation that had once feathered over Virdalia's sense now stabbed right into the core of her being. Fanning, fueling and exhilarating whatever emotions she was currently experiencing. That soft glow of her seal now matched by a spread warmth that the magical signature it was attuned to now interacted with it, shaping it, molding it and Petrus would pause after a minute of interaction to hum.

It seemed he could exert no small amount of control over the seal and, thus, Virdalia's very magic itself. A useful thing to keep in mind. But after ceasing his flow of magic he would caress the seal gently, as if placating it, his large hands engulfing her thigh easily as he looked up at Virdalia to ask her as he met her gaze.

"What do you believe we should do about it in this moment, my Virdalia?"

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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As his magic merged with hers, her elation surged to a fevered peak. It was as though she could almost feel her magic penetrating right into her very being. His words and touch unraveled her composure, sweat pearling at her brow as restraint slipped beyond her grasp. Head thrown back, eyes half open, she released a raw, heated growl as the magic consumed her.

As he withdrew his magic, the sensation dwindled a bit, yet the fire he'd stirred within her only roared hotter, her desire blazing and insatiable. His caress deepened her surrender, drawing from her a breathless, reverent murmur, "Lord Iskandar... if you wish to study the seal more deeply, I wouldn't object to a few... experiments." She bit her lip, lowering her gaze before daring to look into his amber eyes, her voice dropped to a sultry whisper "Though, given the... unintended side effects, perhaps somewhere more private would better serve your will."

Her cheeks burned with shame at her unrestrained desire, yet she could not hold back. Her eyes, half open and glimmering with a mix of longing and vulnerable trust, flicked down to meet his. In a trembling, desperate whisper, she said, "Master... I beg you. Command me, guide me, claim what is yours. I am powerless to resist and in truth... I do not wish to." Her shaking hand reached down, fingers threading softly through his hair, tracing the strands with devoted hesitation. She lingered there, brushing lightly, letting the warmth of his presence guide her touch. Each movement was tentative yet full of yearning, a silent plea woven into the gentle caress. It was as though through her fingers, she hoped to offer herself and draw him closer.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar
 
At Virdalia's words and her touch Petrus would inhale deeply and, as he stood, hook his hands beneath her legs and against her back. Lifting his little elf into a bridal carry he would begin to walk with her, in firm, fast steps, exactly to where he intended to. His hands taking a possessive grip of her, leaving no room for her to wiggle free or resist, as they moved through the manor.

His steps would take the two of them back to the very staircase they had journeyed down earlier. Magic would see the very staircase itself lift them up, the wood rising to make sure none would intrude as Petrus pushes the door open, took Virdalia inside, and with one glance told her that she was finally to receive everything she wanted as the door shut with a final, deafening CLICK.

-- END THREAD --

Virdalia Deuxstrom
 
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