[AU][C][M] Festivities

"Let's go to the washroom."

He could wash himself there, privately, and if he made just enough of a deal of leading the Prince there, people would be assuming that they just couldn't get enough of each other. It'd just solidify the unattainable image that the Prince had been creating all night.

Fleck grasped the Prince's hand and guided him forwards, that playful smile still on his face, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

People whispered and watched as the two disappeared into the hallway.

The washrooms weren't far away, and when he guided the Prince inside, he dropped Richard's hand and moved forwards to wet a cloth in one of the wash basins set up in front of a long mirror.

When he had squeezed the water from it, he turned to the Prince and began gently wiping the honey from his skin.

Richard own teeth chewed on his scabbed lip as he was led. Hand in hand. There were no two ways to interpret the situation.

In Ecrutez they were making a statement. If this happened in Alden, someone would be deeply offended.

As he was led he mortifyingly caught his sister's eye. She had a look of disbelief and amusement. He didn't see his mother. She would probably have the same relaxed expression, her thoughts and feeling private.

In the washroom, he let his shoulders relax and watched as the slave grabbed a cloth.

"I can do it myself," he insisted as it was brought to his face, not making a move.

The cool damp cloth felt good on his flushed skin. Similar to how he had cleaned the slave's face earlier that day.

Some water drizzled down his neck and into the high collar around his neck.

"You've split your lip again." Fleck frowned in worry, pausing as soon as the cloth touched the Prince's skin.

The scab on the lip had split a little. Probably the way he'd sunk his teeth into it as they had left the party.

The gentle touch of the cloth then became tender as he bought it carefully over the split in the lip. It wasn't bleeding much, but he was overly careful as he wiped away the blood, then wiped away the rest of the honey.

He took half a step back as he used toe cloth to wipe his own sticky fingers.

There was still a deep groove between his brows, clearly worried.

The warmth of his face was jarring with how cool the cloth it. He had hoped it would cool it. Instead, the slave's tenderness and care left him more flustered.

He ran his tongue over the split lip. The taste of blood barely noticeable, but enough for him to know he broke a scab.

His own brows were brought together.

"It won't be a problem for you, will it?"

This morning's event was still very present in his mind. He didn't fancy giving the Queen and Emilion another chance of bringing a sword down over something so petty.

"The whole court had seen my tell, so no one would think anything of it, right?"

At least, he hoped so.

"Nothing short of you demanding a guard behead me will result in anything like this morning," he assured.

He wiped away another smear of blood.

"It will take forever to heal if you keep biting it, though."

He set the cloth down on the counter again, leaving it rumpled so the servant attending the bathroom would know it had been used.

Richard relaxed considerably and nodded.

"Good. I don't want you hurt again over something like this."

His tongue followed the same path the cloth had made. The lack of sweetness was disappointing. Instead, it had been replaced by the light tang of blood.

"I know, but it is a habit."

One his mother had tried to make him break over and over, but he couldn't. At least he didn't fiddle with his rings so much anymore.

He shifted a little from foot to foot.

"How long should we stay in here?"

"I won't be." Richard had made sure of that, defending him like he did this morning.

"I don't want it to scar." Which is exactly what it would do if the Prince continued to maul it the way he was doing. He'd feel bad if every day he gazed upon a scar that he had given his Prince.

"A few more minute should be fine. It is best I don't keep you occupied all night, my Prince." His lips kicked upwards teasingly.

His tongue ran over his lip again. He didn't particularly want it to scar, either. But if it happened, it happened. It wouldn't be too noticeable either, inspecting himself in the mirror behind the slave.

Richard laughed softly at the tease.

"Shame."

As soon as he said the word he darkened.

"I mean, shame I can't escape the court," he corrected.

The red on his Prince's cheeks bought a crooked smirk to his lips.

He really did blush so easily. It was too easy to make him flush. A possible downfall, but it was very endearing.

"Another hour or so, and we can retire to your chambers, my Prince."

An hour or so would be enough. Richard wasn't the centre of attention, so he could slip away easily enough.

Richard nodded.

Another hour and he will be free... sort of.

The slave would, undoubtedly, follow back to his room. He wouldn't get the privacy he hoped for.

"Before we go back out, should we dishevel ourselves again? Like a different knot of something?"

His lips kicked up, and he bit his lip.

He'd promised to be a good slave, that didn't cause trouble. But fun wasn't always trouble...right?

"How would you dishevel us, my Prince?"

Fleck wanted to know what the Prince would come up with.

The smiling bitten lip was a good look on the slave.

He wanted the cool cloth back on his face.

But he supposed it would make sense if he dishevelled them both. It would make it more believable.

Blushing, he scanned the slave. The expression he had when he messed up the room on his face.

"Well, if you don't mind-" He brought his hands up to run them through the glossy hair, pulling his fingers through it to muse it up further. "This would be a lot more dishevelled."

His eyes dipped lower, down to the sheer fabric that left little to the imagination. He remembered his first night. He wanted to push it aside. He wanted to tease his cock.

"This wouldn't be so centred." His fingers drifted to the chain that kept the fabric up, twisting it just slightly.

He looked back up, blue meeting brown.

"Our lips would be bruised, it was how I split my lip."

His lips were swollen already. The slaves, not so much.

"You should bite them."

He bowed his head graciously at the Prince's words.

He didn't mind. His body was Richard's, to do with what he wanted.

Fleck's eyes slid shut when fingers ran through his hair, teasing over his skull with with the sharp jerks he used to muss his hair.

The hands at his hips had his breath catching in his throat, and the muscles of his stomach tensing in an almost spasm.

As soon as Richard mentioned their lips, his had caught between his teeth. Before he'd even issued the command to bite them. He dragged his lip through his teeth, letting it swell slightly.

Then he smirked. "Do I look thoroughly fucked, my Prince?"

Richard fixated on the slave's mouth as he swelled his own lips.

The tip of his tongue slipped between his lips and he gulped, his eyes roaming up and down the body observantly. A bruise here and there would help, but that meant following through the act. So for now? He nodded.

"You do," he said softly, breathlessly.

His hands found the laces on his crotch and he quickly tugged on them to loosen them. Only a subtle change on himself, but it should be enough.

He nodded to the mirror behind the slave.

"Would you say you look appropriate?"

The slave knew of these things better than he did. If there was something wrong or something he missed, he would pick it up.

His eyes turned to his reflection.

With his hair mussed and his clothing askew, he did look the picture of played with. All except his eyes. They were burning with lust and tight with tension.

He inhaled slowly as he tried to calm himself a little.

"I look like you just bent me over the sink and teased me," he murmured, eyes running over himself.

"I look perfect. Let's get back to the halls."

Richard nodded, his eyes wondering to the sink. It wasn't wat he was going for, but it will do. He supposed it would explain his own tension set in his shoulder, rather then the relaxed expressions nobles had after using a slave

His hand found the chain - which he let go as soon as they were in the bathroom - and led the slave out into the masses.

Blue eyes found another pair and his sister was smirking at him. He didn't know if he fooled her or not. Her eyes glossed over her then he assumed the slave behind him before losing her attention. She made a group of noble woman laugh.

"Should I just wait for another noble to seek me out?" he asked the slave in a low whisper, turned so his eyes were level with his lips.

"If that's what you want. Personally, I would give them something to want. Make yourself look unattainable for a while."

His eyes turned over the crowd.

"Perhaps stand with your mother, talk to her. Very few would interrupt two foreign royals in conversation, but many people would want to talk to both of you afterwards."

Make yourself look unattainable.

His eyes scanned the room and he found his mother easily; a soft glow amidst the dark colours. Judging by the slight tilt of her body, the conversation she was having was coming to an end.

Elizabeth spotted her son as he made his way over, the slave in tow. With a few quick words, she dismissed the noble.

As her son approached, the corners of her lips curved up a touch, rather then the wide smile his sister gave him.

"Richard," there was a warmness in her voice that was reserved only for her children.

The Prince's mother was a petite figure woman who looked taller than what she was. Her posture was poised and her curled hair was done up on her head in Aldish fashion; elaborate but conservative. Her pale skin was finely lined with age which and brought out the same shockingly blue eyes she shared with all her children.

For a split-second, they raked coldly over the slave, scrutinising him.

"You seem to be enjoying tonight. I believe you had made a good impression," she spoke in Ecrutezian to respect to the court.

Richard hummed, his shoulders pulled back a touch at the praise.

"Yes, it's been... unexpected." He wanted to look at the slave, but he didn't, cheeks still pink.

Fleck followed after the Prince, closer to him than the leashes length, but still not so close that they were touching.

He stopped besides Richard when he settled besides his mother, folding his hands behind his back and bowing his head slightly.

He didn't so much as flinch under the Queen Mother's gaze, even as she signed him with her eyes, noting all the little things that they'd set up to make him look like Richard had enjoyed him.

His face still stayed impassive and his gaze stayed on the floor in front of him.

Good, obedient slave.

The mother and son chatted lightly over trivial things. Nothing that the court could overhear and use against them.

The Queen Mother's gaze wondered.

"Lord Fredericon has been trying to gain my attention since this the start of this evening." The old lord was slowly edging his way through the room, closer to the two of them. Elizabeth switched into Aldish. "I suppose I should indulge him."

Her mouth flirted with a smile. Briefly, she patted her son's arm, then left, unhurried. The room parted for the Queen Mother.

Richard leant in close to his slave, who had been nothing but quiet since he talked to his mother. If it wasn't for the chain in his hands, he may have forgotten he was here altogether.

"Am I unattainable yet?"

"Very."

Fleck's eyes swept the room. There were dozens of eyes on them. Dozens of people wanting to join them and talk to the Prince.

Especially now since no one had been able to talk to him for a while.

"Pick a noble, nod to them. Let them approach."

Richard's eyes scanned the room.

There were a number of nobles eyeing them - him - up. There was one that stood out particularly. A wealthy lord with a well-gilded slave. He wasn't as wealthy as Lord Donaton, but still enough to stand out from the crowd.

He nodded at him and the Lord made his way over, the red headed slave following him obediently.

Fleck's eyes caught the man approaching.

"Good choice, my Prince," he murmured in his ear.

"Lord Diegon of House Santiago. They own most farms in this area, though ne'er step foot upon them. They produce most food for the castle." He gave the history quickly and quietly, watching as the Lord and his slave approached.

Well fed to the point of being fat, it was clear (especially in the sheer clothing he wore) the man had control of the best food in the area.

"Prince Richard!" He paused to see if the Prince would recognise him.

Richard's fingers brushed the slave's thing in thanks while giving the lord a reserved smile.

"Lord Diegon of House Santiago, correct?"

From what he understood from the slave's teachings, he decided to let the lord feel privileged by the fact the foreign Prince knew his name.

Normally when he meets a lord for the first time, even if he knew of them through others, he would let them introduce themselves first.

Richard's fingers brushed the slave's thing in thanks while giving the lord a reserved smile.

"Lord Diegon of House Santiago, correct?"

From what he understood from the slave's teachings, he decided to let the lord feel privileged by the fact the foreign Prince knew his name.

Normally when he meets a lord for the first time, even if he knew of them through others, he would let them introduce themselves first.