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[princeofwhores]

[His Highness and supreme ruler of Tel Maran, crown prince of the Dal'Anor Empire; the Emerald Prince himself is looking.... rather terrible.

In fact, he's not been seen for quite some time, and when he's finally stepping out of his room, he looks a lot thinner. The prince appears sickly and tried, and he walks like he's in his own world, taking a break once before the stairs to catch his breath.

So how about them curses? They tend to suck.]

Comments

[princeofwhores]

We are grateful... you truly are a dark goddess; a beauty of the sands.

[He smiles shakily, reaching out to touch her cheek and trace the smooth line of her chin with his thumb.]

[heresyandlace]

I wish I could do more.

[it's a selfish thing, really. Helping without truly helping, eating up the praise that it brings.

She shifts closer so she can rest her forehead against his, fingertips beginning to heat from the energy she's using, hand never moving from its place against the side of his face]

[princeofwhores]

[He puts an arm around her, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy her presence and the slight halt of his agony. It might be a brief respite from the deteriorating curse, but it is heavenly.

If he only knew half of her thoughts, he wouldn't be as grateful - but at the moment, Tek has a future emperor wrapped around her exquisite fingers.]

[heresyandlace]

[and she eats it up. Her free hand finds the other side of his face, resting there to trace slow soothing circles with her thumb.

And she'll stay there... until she hears the sound of the soup boiling.

Then she pulls away, placing a kiss on his cheek before she lets go and stands, leaving the poison to get back to work while she turns her attention to the meal]

[princeofwhores]

[Ouch! It did hurry up a bit after that lingering contact of her 'trick', and Majid doubles over a bit, spitting up black gunk with a pained groan. It wasn't that a lot of time that had passed, but the change in pressure inside him was enough to make him bite his lip in order to not scream.]

H-haah...!

[heresyandlace]

[oh, how dramatic. Well, her curiosity is sated now, at the very least.

And she makes sure to tuck away any traces of a smirk before she glances over her shoulder while she shuts off the stove and stirs the pot of soup]

...Are you alright?

[princeofwhores]

[Fairy tales are all about the drama!

Majid breathes deeply, trying to regain his composure as he wipes his mouth with a nearby napkin. Glancing at her, he gives a silent nod. How much more of this weakness could his pride take? She must find him disgusting by now.... his poor desert moon.]

[heresyandlace]

[she loves the drama more than she should, really. It's intriguing, and... ah, the feel of all that awful poison. It's been a while since she's been around someone dying of something as potent as this. ...It's almost a homey feeling.

With the food finished, she pours him a big bowl of it, finds a spoon and some bread, and brings it all over]

You're going to eat as much of this as you can stand, alright? You need the energy.

[after she sets it in front of him, she lingers for a minute, standing beside him and reaching to run fingers carefully through his hair. Straightening it, neatening him up a little]

[princeofwhores]

[He glances at the food and then reaches out to takes the spoon. It seemed good enough, and his stomach screamed for food in-between the bouts of pain.

...at least he could fix one issue, now.]

We are eternally grateful, desert jewel.

[heresyandlace]

I wish I could do more, honestly. [moving over so he'll have room to eat, leaning on the table instead]

Sadly, I am not much of a healer.

[princeofwhores]

You heal our aching heart by your beauty and wonderful company.

[He eats carefully, trying to not wolf it all down.]

[heresyandlace]

[she watches him for a minute, deciding finally... yeah, she can't just play completely nice, here. It's not enough.

Not when she's this curious--about several things]

How much longer do you think you truly have? What will you do now?

[princeofwhores]

...we know we will die after our 25th birthday, unless we find someone that will truly love us.

[He sighs and brushes back his hair.]

We might yet die today, due to this pain. It is hard to say.

[heresyandlace]

That would be a shame.

[and a smile that would probably have fit better with some lighter topic]

Such a short life... I hope you don't have many regrets?

[princeofwhores]

[Such a mysterious lady you are, Tek.]

We only have one.

[heresyandlace]

Oh?

[because it's totally okay to pry, right?]

[princeofwhores]

We never saw our mother. We never had a chance to apologize.

[Momma issues.]

[heresyandlace]

For what? ...Existing?

[princeofwhores]

Yes. We brought her much pain.

[heresyandlace]

[her voice stays gentle, something like reassuring, but her smile turns into a bit of a sneer]

All children bring their parents pain.

[princeofwhores]

Not like we did.

[He looks up at her and then leans a bit against the table.]

[heresyandlace]

[she cants her head a bit when he glances at her, and it prompts her to reach and run a light hand over his hair again]

Oh, I am very certain you are not alone in this.

[maybe speaking from a little personal experience]

But, more importantly, what good would an apology really do? Do you think it would really change a thing?

[voice still comforting, but she's getting that arrogant incline of her head]

...You're far too proud a thing to think like that. You should never apologize to anyone for being what you are, let alone apologize for simply being.

[princeofwhores]

You believe it would not change a thing, to apologize for the pain we have given her?

[Sigh. Pet him, please.]

Perhaps we are too proud, like you say. Yet we are the one that felt her hatred. Should we not be the one to make amends?

[heresyandlace]

You can't amend that kind of hatred.

[and pet him she does--soothing, fingers eventually curling to comb gently through his locks]

Hatred like that can only be satisfied with vengeance... which, by the looks of it, she's already tried to enact.

You don't owe her a thing.

[princeofwhores]

[He closes his eyes, enjoying the soothing touch. It might not be real affection, but the placebo effect is at work, making the pain seem a bit better.]

...we don't owe her a thing.

[He mumbles, thoughtful.]