..Olivianna..
✨️🦀 bumbling mermaiden 🪸✨️
Staff member
Herald
Inner Sanctum Nobility
Virtuoso
- Local time
- Today 10:21 PM
- Messages
- 375
- Pronouns
She/ her
"Mephisto, not every woman of the mainland has been rejected." A tawny-skinned woman corrected her friend as she glared earnestly into the man's ink well for eyes. She simultaneously shook her head and bit into the plum the bird had brought for her. A tendril of untamed hair caught on the corner of her mouth as she disputed the claim. She tried sorting out his words within the realms of her own understanding of a populace but couldn't fathom how one man could have gone through an entire kingdom, let alone a town, and not found what he was longing for.
The mystic across from her immediately pushed the hair back into its place, out of the way of her eating and what he considered gorgeous eyes. Her bemusement was fascinating to the creature of consciousness as he stared on, head tilted, slender legs crossed. She didn't flinch or even seem to notice the correction. Mephisto's odd habits had long since grown on her over the few moons the two have kept each other company.
"I jest not, Kitten." Kitten, as he'd come to call her, had been sealed away at the monastery for some 16ish years now. She wasn't permitted leave beyond the church campus as agreed to and outlawed by her late father. This was all done in secret and all mention of the former king's daughter had been scrubbed from the records. Not even her true name could be found on a single piece of parchment, save for her diaries. One of which had been what had brought the pair together. One evening, Kitten had been seated at the window rereading a few of the passages when a Mother forgot to knock upon entering her room. She was so shaken that the book was rattled out of her grasp and plummetted down into the earth below. Mephisto had been a witness to this and planned to steal the book away for possible nesting later but was coaxed by Kitten into flying it back up to her. If it weren't for her pretty eyes he would have stolen the book away without a second thought or shred of remorse.
"This is what I have heard with my own ears and have seen with my two eyes. You who cannot go beyond the brick of this place dare tell me, one who can even gather whispers in the wind as I sail in the breeze, that my testimony is false?" Mephisto, feathers seemingly ruffled, became knit picky. He pinched a loose fiber between his polished black nails out of the seam of his sleeve and flicked it away after a close inspection. Kitten thought the gesture was very bird-like in pecking and very human-like for Mephisto's refined gentlemanly appearance all at once. If he were actually human, she was sure his face would flush in annoyance. But his pale skin remained stark. It made her giggle. The noise immediately brought Mephisto beyond his bruised feelings and captured his attention.
"Forgive me, Meph." Kitten leaned over and gave the man's slicked-back hair a scratch but was sure to smooth the strands back into order. "I didn't mean to offend you." As he studied her, Kitten went on to take his wrist so she could make sure the shirt she crafted for him didn't need any further tailoring. She hadn't known what the birdman got up to whilst he wasn't with her nor did she quite have a grasp on how the magic behind the morphing and his clothes intermingled... but the least she could do was make sure the cloth remained in good condition. Her critical coin eyes danced up and down the fabric as she turned his arm this way and stretched the sleeve that way.
"How frightening it would be to become the fixation of someone with an obsessive complex as he is said to have. Not only that but the muse of a new king?" She considered what it might have been like to even be pursued by a man. She wouldn't know and was alright with the fact that she never would. She was 28 now, an old maid. And above all else, she was ugly. So unsightly even her father couldn't stomach her presence and had her banished.
Mephisto reached for her neck. Again, she didn't shy. She wasn't certain what his intention was but allowed his touch to skim her tender flesh until it came to the beads that rested on her collar. "He might abuse his status. He could have her exiled from her home," she continued, smiling at Meph's newfound fixation. She wondered if she should surrender the charm to him but thought better of it. She'd have to make him his own, one with an assortment of tourmaline to match the glint of his feathers. "Or even executed should she even consider rejecting his hand." Hell, her father had her chartered off for fear that her unfortunately grotesque face would come down on their necks like a guillotine when neighboring kingdoms sent their sons to wed her. Kitten smacked her necklace from Mephisto's talon-like nails as he began to tug the knot. "You'll break it silly."
She got up from where they sat and went over to the vanity to retrieve her jewelry box. "I wonder what he's looking for. A scholar maybe? One that can trace and tune the stars to divine further fortune? Or some sort of siren with a salacious song he can't shake?" Mephisto had an answer at the tip of his tongue that he could not bring his lips to release.
Instead, a knock stepped up to fill the opportunity.
Mephisto slid Kitten one of the veils she kept in the most convenient places and watched on as she secured it to her hair. Once the fabric fell over the neck of her dress, concealing the entirety of her face and the cloak she kept hanging by the door had been draped over her head, she opened the door.
"Um, forgive me for disturbing you, my lady Kalypso!" Iris, the young woman responsible for delivering Kalypo's daily meals and other upkeep stood in the doorway with her covered head bowed. A fierce blush had soured her sensitive complexion from her forehead down to her fingertips as she tried to erase all evidence of her having been attempting to listen at the door. Kalypo was slightly concerned that the girl might fall over and thought to offer her a seat but Iris eventually righted herself. The urgency in the sister's voice was enough confirmation that the woman was fit to fight. "You haven't touched your food in days! It rots beside your chamber door and draws pests. We worry, and I have been instructed to-."
"Bring it in, Iris." Kalypso cut her short.
"Uh-in?"
"Yes." It was a commandment from the princess. Iris wished she didn't have to answer to her at times like this. The two have become quite close but she's been warned numerous times to not forget that the girl was damned. But the princess made that difficult as she was a kind and studious soul who had never lifted a hand to her or even slandered her as a person like other noble ladies couldn't help but do when they requested her service. Iris would forever defend those facts whenever talk of the princess kicked up within the novitiate quarters. But the other rumors could not go unheeded in the face of such an eerie shroud.
Iris timidly made her way through the threshold, holding her breath as tightly as she could for fear that breathing the same cursed air as the lady would somehow curse her as well. As she passed, Kalypso took the loaf of bread that was on the plate and stuck it behind her veil. Iris' mossy green eyes went wide with surprise as she'd almost dropped the tray trying to avoid any physical contact. Kalypso hadn't noticed this, though, as it was just the nervous way of the nuns that tended to her.
Mephisto remained seated at the table, unmoving even as Iris nearly walked into his outstretched leg.
"You can have whatever is there." He understood that Kitten was speaking to him, but Mephisto knew that the girl in front ofin frontd not. Her eyes went wide in disbelief over the contents of the plate and he could see her struggling with a lump in her throat.
She can't be serious... "I-uh... Is there anything else you require for the evening, my lady?" Iris attempted to shift the conversation.
"No, we're fine." The cold shock to her spine the princess's answer sparked at her spine was enough to ignite a fire in Iris' soles. The maid dashed back into the safety of the hall but did not forget to bow before taking her leave. "Oh, and Iris," Kalypso added as she rose from her curtsey. "Show this to the Mother so that she knows it has been delivered, and you can truthfully say that I've eaten something. Thank you for your concern, Iris. Forgive me for any trouble I've gotten you into."
Kalypso then stretched the half-eaten loaf out for Iris to take, who, with quivering bare hands, did so.
Now in all of her days, the exiled princess had come to be a collector and avid reader of books. Amongst those were extraordinary tales of grandeur and romance that often left her in a haze of daydreams and sweltering tears. But nothing in a single one of those books or anything in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for the day she had been sent for by the new king. It was quite traumatic but luckily for her, her closest companions, Mephisto and Iris, were granted permission to stay by her side.
The king's eyes were like a smoldering furnace full of Blackstone and fueled by an abeyant lust that Kalypso mistook for some form of discontent. It wasdiscontenterrifying to wonder to what degree his disappointment would erupt once he came to know that all the effort to ship her here would be fruitless. The confidence he looked upon her with was potent with an expectancy she actually didn't want to disappoint but knew she ultimately would.
"I've been searching for you." The king's sultry tone should not have stupified the women, though it obviously had, given his beguiling appearance... Iris weaved a cross over her person and rebuked the spell he cast over them. His skin was a consistent shade of buttercream that may have otherwise been concerning but looked good on him. Not a blemish could be counted on what was exposed to girls. His wispy hair was an unnatural shade of blonde that may very well have been white. The circlet tangled within the locks was of hammered silver. He wore a gray tunic, casually tucked into black trousers that were laced into polished boots. At his shoulders clung a thick black fur that broadened his already shapely shoulders. He was imposing and intimidating, and as convincing as she presumed he could be, Kalypso was no charlatan.
"I can't be the woman you are looking for," Kalypso eventually said. Iris agreed internally, though she was eager to hear his explanation of how he came to be aware of the exiled princess' surreptitious existence and concluded she was what he desired. "You're mistaken." Iris had a good guess that the king must have garnered knowledge about a sheltered noble with no genuine experience of the outside world and thought his wares would get the best reaction out of someone like her. But even if that were the case... to take a cursed princess as a wife? As handsome as he was, the king couldn't- shouldn't take on a wife that had anything less than a pure and perfect reputation. Kalypso's wasn't favorable even to the people who knew about her.
"Oh." An end of his groomed eyebrow lifted in shallow inquiry. "How so?" Kalypso considered what she might combat his accusation with first but found that his demeanor unnerved her and, in turn, took her words. She turned her head to get help from Mephisto, who had leaned his ear to pass the time during their excursion as she composed a foolproof response. But the birdman kept his head humbly bowed in the presence of the king, refusing to acknowledge his friend though he felt her eyes on him.
The king sighed a loaded breath as he shifted the weight of his head off of his wrist. He couldn't see her expression but had an acute sense of how he was making her feel. He crossed his open legs and dusted a stray fiber off of the otherwise flawless slack of his pants. "Aren't you Kalypso, the cursed princess? The jaded witch with refined alloy for eyes set in a face even her father had the desire to ruin?" The phrasing didn't sit well with the women as it sounded like he was implying that the late king might have been responsible for disfiguring Kalypso. But Kalypso knew that she was never harmed in such a way, and only once she came of age did her father show any signs that her developing appearance was troublesome. Now Kalypso hadn't seen herself in a mirror for ages but did know that her eyes were mix matched and unsettling. As far as the witch claim went, Iris could see where such news might have held merit. The lady hardly ever left her room and could go days without eating, to say the least... her current ensemble, though modest and of fine embroidered silk layers, was still quite spectral and unbecoming of a former princess.
Kalypso turned to Iris, who had her head bowed but lifted her shimmering emerald eyes in apology to the princess. She was just as useless to her as the opposite side was.
"Who, as a result," The king continued with a growing assurance proceeded by a faint smile that crept along his crass lips. "Was discarded across the sea out of the furthest sight of anyone who would undoubtedly exploit her beauty. Since she has lost her precious mind and now rots with the rafters she speaks to within her crypt."
Kalypso was promptly insulted, and even though her hideous veil blighted her figure, he could see that her chest was heaving quite fiercely. If it was in anger or out of sheer distress he couldn't tell but was enthralled all the same. "Don't let all that breath go to waste." He teased. Though his chuckle was light it was dense enough to push her to action.
"I don't speak to myself like some inflicted soul..!" She refuted in a small voice. All else besides that slander were difficult things to disprove or simply couldn't be denied. "...Mephisto is my closest companion and Iris, I've come to accept as my sister. They know me. You do not."
"Oh?" The king coaxed. A sarcasm spiked with a dank delight saturated his tone. He cut his gaze to the nun and watched as a slight courage kept into her conscience.
"M-my lady... Meh-me-fist... toe?" She finally murmured, even slightly extending her hand.
A cold lead balled up within Kalypso's stomach that she couldn't stop from pressing her stomach into the floor at the nun's blunder. "Yes. Iris..." The stifled irritation and confusion in the princess' attitude didn't come as a shock to the king nor the nun. Iris did still feel the acute pang of guilt for having never truly addressed the princess' fresh affliction. "The gentlemen you've met in my room plenty of times. The one that accompanies us now." Kalypso wheeled her head back around to where Mephisto had been standing but found no one there. His absence came as a surprise to her. She hadn't realized he'd gone and couldn't recall hearing him bat a wing. "Where did he go? Has he departed? Iris?" Kalypso returned her attention back to the nun who only, vehemently, shook her head.
"...There was never a gentleman... my lady."
"I am many things. A liar as well. But mistaken... I am not." Somehow the king's provokative voice cut through the ringing in her ears and drew her out of the haze that threatened to drown her.
After the revelation, the princess had gone catatonic for a short while. The king had given her some time to come back on her own but the nun's inconsolable sobbing vexed him to action. He had a guard remove the princess' cloak to confirm that he had indeed found what he was searching for. Kalypso's distant eyes shone brilliantly like two coins, one silver and the other so brown it could be considered gold. Her wavey hair melted down her back and leaked over her shoulder like milk chocolate. Her face was glittered with freckless that mirrored the cosmos and the clarity of her complexion reflected the purity of her soul. She was divine. And soon to be all his.
"As an avid enjoyer of the finest and collector of the rather... invaluble things of this lifetime... I've come to the consuming realization that I desire someone equally as priceless to settle with." Kalypso heard what he was saying but didn't want to meet him at the place he was getting at. "And that someone is you. Aren't you Olivianna?" He posed the ultimate question though the pearly smile plastered on his smug face affirmed he needed no answer.
The princess swiped the film of nervous sweat that replaced her veil up into her hair and involuntarily pulled a few of the strands out. Unfortunately, the pain she felt from that was real and confirmed that she wasn't having a nightmare or lost in a bad book. Despite her laboured breaths, the air was as scattered as her thoughts and were no longer reaching her head.
"H-how," She breathlessly stammered as the room teeter tottered worse than the ship they had come there on. "-do you know my name?" The princess blindly reached behind her and a just as winded Iris immediately came to her aid. She intended to be a support but the weight of the world came down upon the women and Kaly-Olivianna went completely faint in her arms. Iris wasn't sure what, if anything, she could do. She wasn't even certain she was worthy enough to bush the lady's hair off of her alluring face.
As the king gathered himself off of the throne, a dainty chain slipped from where it had been tucked into his collar. Iris couldn't help the attraction her eyes had to it. When the light hit the gems a familiar glint of blues, green, and purples pierced her recollection. It was the only thing of his ensemble not gray or obsidian because it did not belong to him. Iris' stomach fell through the floor when she remembered she'd twice seen Olivianna working on the arrangement back at their home. Iris furiously fanned the princess but the hope she would regain consciousness was just as faint as she was. How was it that it came to be around his neck? How did he find her? How had he known she was never cursed? How did he know her name?
The king smirked arrogantly as he shrugging down the steps of his throne, still relishing her airy expression when the interal stuggle he instigated come to a head behind her riveting glare. He was all but smitten by the kitten and knew within the soul he didn't have that he would never tire of his greatest nonpareil.
"A little birdy told me."
The mystic across from her immediately pushed the hair back into its place, out of the way of her eating and what he considered gorgeous eyes. Her bemusement was fascinating to the creature of consciousness as he stared on, head tilted, slender legs crossed. She didn't flinch or even seem to notice the correction. Mephisto's odd habits had long since grown on her over the few moons the two have kept each other company.
"I jest not, Kitten." Kitten, as he'd come to call her, had been sealed away at the monastery for some 16ish years now. She wasn't permitted leave beyond the church campus as agreed to and outlawed by her late father. This was all done in secret and all mention of the former king's daughter had been scrubbed from the records. Not even her true name could be found on a single piece of parchment, save for her diaries. One of which had been what had brought the pair together. One evening, Kitten had been seated at the window rereading a few of the passages when a Mother forgot to knock upon entering her room. She was so shaken that the book was rattled out of her grasp and plummetted down into the earth below. Mephisto had been a witness to this and planned to steal the book away for possible nesting later but was coaxed by Kitten into flying it back up to her. If it weren't for her pretty eyes he would have stolen the book away without a second thought or shred of remorse.
"This is what I have heard with my own ears and have seen with my two eyes. You who cannot go beyond the brick of this place dare tell me, one who can even gather whispers in the wind as I sail in the breeze, that my testimony is false?" Mephisto, feathers seemingly ruffled, became knit picky. He pinched a loose fiber between his polished black nails out of the seam of his sleeve and flicked it away after a close inspection. Kitten thought the gesture was very bird-like in pecking and very human-like for Mephisto's refined gentlemanly appearance all at once. If he were actually human, she was sure his face would flush in annoyance. But his pale skin remained stark. It made her giggle. The noise immediately brought Mephisto beyond his bruised feelings and captured his attention.
"Forgive me, Meph." Kitten leaned over and gave the man's slicked-back hair a scratch but was sure to smooth the strands back into order. "I didn't mean to offend you." As he studied her, Kitten went on to take his wrist so she could make sure the shirt she crafted for him didn't need any further tailoring. She hadn't known what the birdman got up to whilst he wasn't with her nor did she quite have a grasp on how the magic behind the morphing and his clothes intermingled... but the least she could do was make sure the cloth remained in good condition. Her critical coin eyes danced up and down the fabric as she turned his arm this way and stretched the sleeve that way.
"How frightening it would be to become the fixation of someone with an obsessive complex as he is said to have. Not only that but the muse of a new king?" She considered what it might have been like to even be pursued by a man. She wouldn't know and was alright with the fact that she never would. She was 28 now, an old maid. And above all else, she was ugly. So unsightly even her father couldn't stomach her presence and had her banished.
Mephisto reached for her neck. Again, she didn't shy. She wasn't certain what his intention was but allowed his touch to skim her tender flesh until it came to the beads that rested on her collar. "He might abuse his status. He could have her exiled from her home," she continued, smiling at Meph's newfound fixation. She wondered if she should surrender the charm to him but thought better of it. She'd have to make him his own, one with an assortment of tourmaline to match the glint of his feathers. "Or even executed should she even consider rejecting his hand." Hell, her father had her chartered off for fear that her unfortunately grotesque face would come down on their necks like a guillotine when neighboring kingdoms sent their sons to wed her. Kitten smacked her necklace from Mephisto's talon-like nails as he began to tug the knot. "You'll break it silly."
She got up from where they sat and went over to the vanity to retrieve her jewelry box. "I wonder what he's looking for. A scholar maybe? One that can trace and tune the stars to divine further fortune? Or some sort of siren with a salacious song he can't shake?" Mephisto had an answer at the tip of his tongue that he could not bring his lips to release.
Instead, a knock stepped up to fill the opportunity.
Mephisto slid Kitten one of the veils she kept in the most convenient places and watched on as she secured it to her hair. Once the fabric fell over the neck of her dress, concealing the entirety of her face and the cloak she kept hanging by the door had been draped over her head, she opened the door.
"Um, forgive me for disturbing you, my lady Kalypso!" Iris, the young woman responsible for delivering Kalypo's daily meals and other upkeep stood in the doorway with her covered head bowed. A fierce blush had soured her sensitive complexion from her forehead down to her fingertips as she tried to erase all evidence of her having been attempting to listen at the door. Kalypo was slightly concerned that the girl might fall over and thought to offer her a seat but Iris eventually righted herself. The urgency in the sister's voice was enough confirmation that the woman was fit to fight. "You haven't touched your food in days! It rots beside your chamber door and draws pests. We worry, and I have been instructed to-."
"Bring it in, Iris." Kalypso cut her short.
"Uh-in?"
"Yes." It was a commandment from the princess. Iris wished she didn't have to answer to her at times like this. The two have become quite close but she's been warned numerous times to not forget that the girl was damned. But the princess made that difficult as she was a kind and studious soul who had never lifted a hand to her or even slandered her as a person like other noble ladies couldn't help but do when they requested her service. Iris would forever defend those facts whenever talk of the princess kicked up within the novitiate quarters. But the other rumors could not go unheeded in the face of such an eerie shroud.
Iris timidly made her way through the threshold, holding her breath as tightly as she could for fear that breathing the same cursed air as the lady would somehow curse her as well. As she passed, Kalypso took the loaf of bread that was on the plate and stuck it behind her veil. Iris' mossy green eyes went wide with surprise as she'd almost dropped the tray trying to avoid any physical contact. Kalypso hadn't noticed this, though, as it was just the nervous way of the nuns that tended to her.
Mephisto remained seated at the table, unmoving even as Iris nearly walked into his outstretched leg.
"You can have whatever is there." He understood that Kitten was speaking to him, but Mephisto knew that the girl in front ofin frontd not. Her eyes went wide in disbelief over the contents of the plate and he could see her struggling with a lump in her throat.
She can't be serious... "I-uh... Is there anything else you require for the evening, my lady?" Iris attempted to shift the conversation.
"No, we're fine." The cold shock to her spine the princess's answer sparked at her spine was enough to ignite a fire in Iris' soles. The maid dashed back into the safety of the hall but did not forget to bow before taking her leave. "Oh, and Iris," Kalypso added as she rose from her curtsey. "Show this to the Mother so that she knows it has been delivered, and you can truthfully say that I've eaten something. Thank you for your concern, Iris. Forgive me for any trouble I've gotten you into."
Kalypso then stretched the half-eaten loaf out for Iris to take, who, with quivering bare hands, did so.
Now in all of her days, the exiled princess had come to be a collector and avid reader of books. Amongst those were extraordinary tales of grandeur and romance that often left her in a haze of daydreams and sweltering tears. But nothing in a single one of those books or anything in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for the day she had been sent for by the new king. It was quite traumatic but luckily for her, her closest companions, Mephisto and Iris, were granted permission to stay by her side.
The king's eyes were like a smoldering furnace full of Blackstone and fueled by an abeyant lust that Kalypso mistook for some form of discontent. It wasdiscontenterrifying to wonder to what degree his disappointment would erupt once he came to know that all the effort to ship her here would be fruitless. The confidence he looked upon her with was potent with an expectancy she actually didn't want to disappoint but knew she ultimately would.
"I've been searching for you." The king's sultry tone should not have stupified the women, though it obviously had, given his beguiling appearance... Iris weaved a cross over her person and rebuked the spell he cast over them. His skin was a consistent shade of buttercream that may have otherwise been concerning but looked good on him. Not a blemish could be counted on what was exposed to girls. His wispy hair was an unnatural shade of blonde that may very well have been white. The circlet tangled within the locks was of hammered silver. He wore a gray tunic, casually tucked into black trousers that were laced into polished boots. At his shoulders clung a thick black fur that broadened his already shapely shoulders. He was imposing and intimidating, and as convincing as she presumed he could be, Kalypso was no charlatan.
"I can't be the woman you are looking for," Kalypso eventually said. Iris agreed internally, though she was eager to hear his explanation of how he came to be aware of the exiled princess' surreptitious existence and concluded she was what he desired. "You're mistaken." Iris had a good guess that the king must have garnered knowledge about a sheltered noble with no genuine experience of the outside world and thought his wares would get the best reaction out of someone like her. But even if that were the case... to take a cursed princess as a wife? As handsome as he was, the king couldn't- shouldn't take on a wife that had anything less than a pure and perfect reputation. Kalypso's wasn't favorable even to the people who knew about her.
"Oh." An end of his groomed eyebrow lifted in shallow inquiry. "How so?" Kalypso considered what she might combat his accusation with first but found that his demeanor unnerved her and, in turn, took her words. She turned her head to get help from Mephisto, who had leaned his ear to pass the time during their excursion as she composed a foolproof response. But the birdman kept his head humbly bowed in the presence of the king, refusing to acknowledge his friend though he felt her eyes on him.
The king sighed a loaded breath as he shifted the weight of his head off of his wrist. He couldn't see her expression but had an acute sense of how he was making her feel. He crossed his open legs and dusted a stray fiber off of the otherwise flawless slack of his pants. "Aren't you Kalypso, the cursed princess? The jaded witch with refined alloy for eyes set in a face even her father had the desire to ruin?" The phrasing didn't sit well with the women as it sounded like he was implying that the late king might have been responsible for disfiguring Kalypso. But Kalypso knew that she was never harmed in such a way, and only once she came of age did her father show any signs that her developing appearance was troublesome. Now Kalypso hadn't seen herself in a mirror for ages but did know that her eyes were mix matched and unsettling. As far as the witch claim went, Iris could see where such news might have held merit. The lady hardly ever left her room and could go days without eating, to say the least... her current ensemble, though modest and of fine embroidered silk layers, was still quite spectral and unbecoming of a former princess.
Kalypso turned to Iris, who had her head bowed but lifted her shimmering emerald eyes in apology to the princess. She was just as useless to her as the opposite side was.
"Who, as a result," The king continued with a growing assurance proceeded by a faint smile that crept along his crass lips. "Was discarded across the sea out of the furthest sight of anyone who would undoubtedly exploit her beauty. Since she has lost her precious mind and now rots with the rafters she speaks to within her crypt."
Kalypso was promptly insulted, and even though her hideous veil blighted her figure, he could see that her chest was heaving quite fiercely. If it was in anger or out of sheer distress he couldn't tell but was enthralled all the same. "Don't let all that breath go to waste." He teased. Though his chuckle was light it was dense enough to push her to action.
"I don't speak to myself like some inflicted soul..!" She refuted in a small voice. All else besides that slander were difficult things to disprove or simply couldn't be denied. "...Mephisto is my closest companion and Iris, I've come to accept as my sister. They know me. You do not."
"Oh?" The king coaxed. A sarcasm spiked with a dank delight saturated his tone. He cut his gaze to the nun and watched as a slight courage kept into her conscience.
"M-my lady... Meh-me-fist... toe?" She finally murmured, even slightly extending her hand.
A cold lead balled up within Kalypso's stomach that she couldn't stop from pressing her stomach into the floor at the nun's blunder. "Yes. Iris..." The stifled irritation and confusion in the princess' attitude didn't come as a shock to the king nor the nun. Iris did still feel the acute pang of guilt for having never truly addressed the princess' fresh affliction. "The gentlemen you've met in my room plenty of times. The one that accompanies us now." Kalypso wheeled her head back around to where Mephisto had been standing but found no one there. His absence came as a surprise to her. She hadn't realized he'd gone and couldn't recall hearing him bat a wing. "Where did he go? Has he departed? Iris?" Kalypso returned her attention back to the nun who only, vehemently, shook her head.
"...There was never a gentleman... my lady."
"I am many things. A liar as well. But mistaken... I am not." Somehow the king's provokative voice cut through the ringing in her ears and drew her out of the haze that threatened to drown her.
After the revelation, the princess had gone catatonic for a short while. The king had given her some time to come back on her own but the nun's inconsolable sobbing vexed him to action. He had a guard remove the princess' cloak to confirm that he had indeed found what he was searching for. Kalypso's distant eyes shone brilliantly like two coins, one silver and the other so brown it could be considered gold. Her wavey hair melted down her back and leaked over her shoulder like milk chocolate. Her face was glittered with freckless that mirrored the cosmos and the clarity of her complexion reflected the purity of her soul. She was divine. And soon to be all his.
"As an avid enjoyer of the finest and collector of the rather... invaluble things of this lifetime... I've come to the consuming realization that I desire someone equally as priceless to settle with." Kalypso heard what he was saying but didn't want to meet him at the place he was getting at. "And that someone is you. Aren't you Olivianna?" He posed the ultimate question though the pearly smile plastered on his smug face affirmed he needed no answer.
The princess swiped the film of nervous sweat that replaced her veil up into her hair and involuntarily pulled a few of the strands out. Unfortunately, the pain she felt from that was real and confirmed that she wasn't having a nightmare or lost in a bad book. Despite her laboured breaths, the air was as scattered as her thoughts and were no longer reaching her head.
"H-how," She breathlessly stammered as the room teeter tottered worse than the ship they had come there on. "-do you know my name?" The princess blindly reached behind her and a just as winded Iris immediately came to her aid. She intended to be a support but the weight of the world came down upon the women and Kaly-Olivianna went completely faint in her arms. Iris wasn't sure what, if anything, she could do. She wasn't even certain she was worthy enough to bush the lady's hair off of her alluring face.
As the king gathered himself off of the throne, a dainty chain slipped from where it had been tucked into his collar. Iris couldn't help the attraction her eyes had to it. When the light hit the gems a familiar glint of blues, green, and purples pierced her recollection. It was the only thing of his ensemble not gray or obsidian because it did not belong to him. Iris' stomach fell through the floor when she remembered she'd twice seen Olivianna working on the arrangement back at their home. Iris furiously fanned the princess but the hope she would regain consciousness was just as faint as she was. How was it that it came to be around his neck? How did he find her? How had he known she was never cursed? How did he know her name?
The king smirked arrogantly as he shrugging down the steps of his throne, still relishing her airy expression when the interal stuggle he instigated come to a head behind her riveting glare. He was all but smitten by the kitten and knew within the soul he didn't have that he would never tire of his greatest nonpareil.
"A little birdy told me."