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Aleksei

[Wind Court] To the beyond

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AbrFdfX.png"There you are."

Intrusive hands rearranged the crystals and coins of all the elaborate necklaces encasing her slender throat; they straightened the golden hoops in her ears, and the rest threaded her delicate wrists through thin bracelets. Each maiden took their job decorating the pretty doll to the best of their amazing abilities, ensuring that the woman delicately perched atop a cushion looked like a painted picture. 

Today she wore a saffron yellow lengha beautifully decorated in the softest of willful flowers, embroidered with elaborate stitching, and edged with red fabric. Thrown across her left shoulder was a dupatta that spoke of her royalty and importance; the material was heavy and thick, sewn by many hands, dyed by just as many. It had been a gift from a suitor who had begged for her hand, gone so far to crawl through the mountains on his knees to proclaim his infatuation. Terrible that such a passionate man was only born to be on his knees and nothing more.

It has been a collection of at least four weeks since she lurked the heavily painted halls of her humble abode. Thoughtfully, bejeweled fingers swam through pale strands of hair, ruffling the curls lose so they spilled over her shoulders. Four full weeks, she thought ruefully, soon it will be a never-ending thing. This has been her home since infancy, leaving it behind for almost a month had been hard enough ... and now, forever. Forever is such a long time, longer a time than she can honestly put into words.

"Padshah?"

Nesoi lifted her head, planting lavender eyes upon one of the handmaidens who had asked her a question. She was not going to ask the woman to repeat herself. 

"Your grooms, should we gather them?"

Ah yes, her grooms. It has been a delicate six months she has married her collection of handsome men, they have been relatively blissful when none of them was politicking. Her estate is large and requires minds sharper than her own to delegate the happenings within, which is why she held a game. She handpicked the best suitors that would see her home benefits from their company, while also having the stout to put up with someone such as herself. Spoiled beyond comprehension, the Padsha can be a problematic creature when she wanted to be, but the stubbornness born into her has kept her in a position of power. 

Said power that will now be bleeding outside the borders of Kalopsia. 

"Please," was the proud reply.

Edited by Aleksei

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In the days and nights that his bride was away, Sanguine had made himself as useful as he could. Minor chores were no match for his expertise, as he expertly made certain that the rooms were as tidy as could be. Fearlessly he braved some of the most grueling tasks indoors: dusting, organizing the book shelves, even going so far as to checking on the pantries to inventory their stocks of food. While the support staff found his efforts...less than amusing, he was certain that his bride would see the love he and Dux Gravis put into these tasks.

Caw!

"Yes, I do believe this is the more proper way a room should be cleaned. The maids will surely thank me for-"

"What are you doing in here?! Didn't we tell you to stop doing our jobs?" Cried one of the more irate maids who managed the cleaning of these immaculate rooms. She was but one of many who felt that Sanguine was not qualified enough to assist them in their daily chores.

"I was merely trying to assist you in your duties."

Caw! Caw!

"You and your filthy little bird do nothing but force us to do our work over again! Either get out now or receive a thrashing you shall not forget." Her face was scrunched up into that of pure annoyance, prompting the vampire to make a hasty retreat.

"Yes well...I shall be off then. Good day to you." With that, Sanguine evaporated into shadows, Dux Gravis leaving with him as he made his way out of that situation. Even after facing off against some of the most vicious monsters in Valucre and beyond, those maids still unnerved him to a degree. Something about the way their blood pumped angrily made him want to keep his distance.

Before he knew it though, the twice dead warrior found himself standing just across from his bride, almost as if his powers guided him to her. "Ah, hello there, my dear. Was your trip back home well?"

Caw! Caw! Caw!

"Hush now, Dux Gravis. There's no need to overwhelm her with questions at this point." He bowed to her, the seemingly direct opposite of who he was as a person. Darkness and light, the living and the dead, all mattered little when it came to how he felt about her inside his cold heart.

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Felix Steiner-Davion was showering when the call to assembly came.

He always did so after a rigorous training session. Although he was married now, he was still considered by many to be the Noble of the Rajput Brigade. At one point he was an Agnivanshi, a Rajput commander, but now he was wedded to Nesoi Leifa, a beautiful, powerful, yet spoiled lady as one of her grooms, both consort and protector. He was an older warrior, though he still appeared extremely handsome and young, with silvered hair and keen, regal features, a result of both fair luck and the curse of the Calling itself, granting him feminine features that would not be out of place on a boy on the cusp of manhood.

Had it been purely his choice, he would have preferred to remain in the Rajput and win his own accolades there, but it was not. Politicking was something Felix disdained even though by all accounts and mannerisms he should have been good at it, though it was politicking that had led him to his life as part of the military elite as it was.

There was no helping it. He was still bound to his fate, and as he finished the shower and dried and dressed, Felix put on the ever-present mask of nobility that had never been cracked before, even in the heat of battle. At the very least, he could still keep his famed prodigious sword skills honed and his body tempered, as much as for his own sake as it was for that of his honored wife.

Soon, he stood across from Lady Nesoi, and next to another one of her grooms, Sanguine he believed his name was, and bowed to his lady. He was dressed in red and gold robes, and his signature dual curved falchions lay belted to his waist.

"Welcome back my darling" he addressed her politely and warmly. There was no need for anything else. She would direct and speak, and he would follow.

 

Edited by Fierach

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Today the wind made it seem the countless flowers in the courtyard were arms reaching up to the sky and waving to greet the giant ball of flame. Jale was watching the spectacle from inside the mansion while eating and drinking ale: alone in the room enjoying a bit of time away from all the politics and mundane tasks that being a groom of a Padsha included. She’s been off somewhere doing something for the past 4 weeks, he couldn’t be bothered to remember what, for so much went on in her life that it was difficult to keep track.

When he wasn’t politicking and the like he spent his time speaking with the staff of the estate, trying desperately to figure out where he would fit. Thus far he has felt like a puzzle piece that is trying to find a place to fit in an already completed puzzle. The estate ran like clockwork; however, after 4 weeks of talking to the staff he found that wasn’t the case. Maids, guards, cooks, they all had their stories ranging from Nesoi’s seemingly endless list of needs to the maiden’s pickiness. Discussions went well enough, yet he couldn’t help but overhear the barely audible whispers regarding his vitiligo when his back was turned. This would be an unfortunate reality that he would have to get used to, for this was no longer the brigade where no soldier was scrutinized for such factors.

Jale often pondered if the Padsha would have personally chosen him and what she actually thought of his appearance, but he was honestly afraid of what sort of outburst he would have if she said anything negative about it. Some of the others were already intimate with Nesoi before the marriage; meanwhile, he was chosen by the abilities he displayed in the games alone. They thought that “A man with the initiative of an ox would be useful to the Padsha”. His feelings toward his new wife feel less like love and more like undying respect, he just wishes she could stop being so regal for just a moment, so he could figure out what she is really like behind all that responsibility and nobility. Perhaps that truly was all that she was.

It was in the middle of this thought that a maid that he knew as Sylvia knocked on the door, saying that his wife had finally come back from her week-long business trip. It was finally time to lay eyes upon Nesoi. Hastily, Jale got out of his seat and made his way to his lady’s quarters. Two had gotten there before him.

“How was the trip, Nesoi? I’m sure you encountered no problem during the negotiation.” He kept his voice firm yet friendly. He stood at attention and patiently waited for a response

 

Edited by Valk

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AbrFdfX.pngHis bride was beautiful, as beautiful as the day he first laid his eyes on her, a long time ago. Back then, Matahari had thought Nesoi an angel reincarnated. It was during his fourth year in the Rajput Brigade, when he had earned his invite to the Wind Court’s harvest feast by winning the qualifying fight among the Chauhan that determined who would be eligible to advance to the next level of training.

Since then, he had relished every opportunity to visit the Wind Court. The more accomplished his skills, the higher the rank he achieved in the Brigade, and the more likely he was to be allowed around the company of nobles and royalty. Until now, finally, he won her hand.

However, it was somewhat of a disappointment that he was to share her with four other men. Only slightly, though. An angel like her deserved five Agnivanshi bodyguards. Looking at the other three men who had arrived before him, they were little more than that - fighters doing their jobs. Matahari wanted to be much more; he would work to win her heart.

The Agnivanshi had shed his armour for today, leaving only his sword sheathed and hanging at his side. After a working trip, his bride deserved to come home to warmth and indulgence, not cold steel, hard armour and the constant reminder of danger. Matahari wore a navy suit with a blue sash decorated with the traditional patterns of Kalopsia, his long golden hair braided down his back. On his hands he carried a small package bound with soft silk. It was with this that he walked up to Nesoi.

“Welcome home, my love,” he smiled warmly, placing his hand atop hers. Compared to her soft skin, his was calloused and rough, an inevitable effect of his training that unfortunately could not be erased. His fingers encircled Nesoi’s slender wrist and brought it up to meet the package that he had brought. “A present for you.” He had asked her handmaidens for the name of her favourite dessert, and had personally gone down to the shop to make sure they did their best work for her, the result of which lay in her hands now.

 

Edited by jaistlyn

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