New Post
Search
HelpHouse of Xavia -3
in reply to a message by La Reina
This one is shorter than usual.
Siân
Monarch: Ciprian Juris Leighton Adelino Xavia
Consort: Dariena Lys [Airelen] Xavia
S: Crispyn Leamon Domenick Xavia
D: Vyvienne Yevgenia Iseult Xavia
S: Sylviu Ioan Mácsemilian Xavia
Ioncu was zooming Vyvienne around the room and listening to the sounds of her squealing as Dariena marked up another page of name ideas and scribbled them out again one by one.
"It's unsettling," she commented. "They're just worried."
Ioncu stopped and held the little girl on his hip. He fixed Dariena with a serious expression before saying, "I swear to you. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize you or your position. Am I discontent here? Yes, you know I am. Would I do something to put you or your family in danger? No. Absolutely not."
Dariena looked at her older brother. Ioncu had been upset for years. She couldn't remember a time when he was truly happy since before their parents died. He had always felt jaded or malcontent with something. But since Vyvienne's birth he had mellowed out a bit. He loved her and his anger had dissipated in the days since she started to visit him regularly.
Ioncu put Vyvienne back on her feet and pulled out a chair adjacent to his sister. He flipped it around backwards, straddling it to sit down.
“Your Highness,” Dariena said with a smirk as she took note of the position.
“Don’t make fun,” Ioncu retorted. “I’m a prisoner. There is no call to impress. I sit however I want.”
“I wasn’t making fun of you. I wouldn’t,” Dariena replied more sympathetically. “But you’re doing better now. You aren’t groundskeeping.”
They had allowed him a house within the perimeters of Bruna Castle's large, stone walls. Dariena had asked for it and Ciprian had granted it be built how she pleased. She chose something reminiscent of their former home- a villa-like little place with a parlor, bedroom, kitchen, washroom, and a veranda. It wasn’t the luxury he had been used to when he was a Prince of Veraseng, but it wasn’t the same way he had been treated when he first came to Bejagat either.
“I’m under house arrest,” Ioncu stated openly, looking at the walls around him. “I’m not yet thirty and I’ll be under house arrest for the rest of my life.”
“Lesser men would have killed both of us.”
“I would’ve killed them,” Ioncu spoke clearly and without hesitation. “If the situation had been reversed, if we had won the war, I would have gotten rid of all of them. It’s safer.”
“Ioncu, don’t say that!” Dariena hushed. “That’s not safe!”
Ioncu shrugged, “It’s true. I wouldn’t ever have the heir to a land I conquered living within walking distance of where my family sleeps.”
"They’re my family now too. They’re yours,” Dariena reminded, motioning to Vyvyienne who had settling in the floor to play with her little wooden toys. “Ciprian doesn’t think you’re heartless, just angry.” Dariena looked at the scribbled out paper again and placed it on the table with a sigh.
“Well, if situations had been reversed, I wouldn’t have them as family. I wouldn’t have married a Xavia. Adalyn was younger than Crispyn and Ciprian and his brothers just aren’t that attractive."
“You lie!” Dariena laughed. “You would have married Mácsen, but he was taken.”
“No one is taken if the King wants them.”
“Dangerous territory,” she warned. “Be cautious.”
Ioncu rolled his shoulders a bit. “Mácsen. Name the baby after him. It will appeal to your husband and most likely the people will appreciate it."
Dariena lifted the the blanket drapped over her shoulder and looked at the infant prince who was contently suckling from her sensitive breast. She frowned a bit.
“Mácsen has been wonderful, but I want this one to have his own name. I want him to have a name that presents the people of Bejagat so that he doesn’t ever feel too alienated from them. It’s easy for us to lose our place sometimes, forgetting the outside world.”
“Especially when you’re confined to your quarters,” Ioncu mumbled with a slight smirk. He pointed at one of the names she had crossed through.
“You’ve written Silvio multiple times on these lists. Then you always reject it. You obviously like it. Does Ciprian not?”
“He’s the one who first suggested it. The Sylvvan forrest covers almost all of the north of Bejagat. It just doesn’t have enough of the south in it to make it likable by the whole nation.” she shrugged. “I think he could even look like a Silvio, but I can’t keep from feeling like the people from home would grumble at the announcement.”
“Someone will grumble about any and every announcement you make for the rest of your life. Get used to that.” Ioncu laughed. “He’ll have to.” He reached and took the baby from his sister, causing the child to smack his lips and then start to cry at the loss of nourishment and warmth. “Oh, go ahead and cry. They’ll grumble and you’ll cry. And that’s how it will always be for you. You’re probably never going to rule either. Mazha and Dadja just had you so they would have a backup in case anything happened with that runt of a thing playing in the floor down there. But she’s feisty. She’ll eat you alive, boy. Better learn to be tough now. I think Silvio is good. You’ll need to be strong like the Sylvvan and able to last anything.”
“Give him back. You’re upsetting him,” Dariena scolded lightly and took the new prince back into her arms. She nestled the newborn to her side and helped his mouth find the right place so that he would quiet down and nurse again. She dropped the cloth back over her shoulder and sighed. “He needs a middle name to appease the South then. It’s just a name, but it’s still politics.”
“No, he needs Silvio to be spelled as if he were from Veraseng. With a Y in place of the first I. Sylvio.”
“Even better, we could spell it the complete Veraseng way with a U at the end and everything. He would be named after a northern place. The least they could allow would be to spell his name the way I would have if I were still a royal in our homeland.” Dariena spoke adamantly as she stood up and tucked the blanket around the little boy.
"Tell Ciprian that. If he cares about you as much as you claim, he’ll be glad to appease you with this."
“You make things so difficult,” Dariena said with an eyeball, but Ioncu smirked as if he were proud of himself. She shook her head and then turned to her daughter, “Vyvienne, come say goodbye to your uncle. It’s time to go."
Vyvienne frowned. “No, I wanna stay here,” her little voice responded with a whine.
“I want to move to the seaside, but you can’t move a castle the same way you can’t move meal times. We have to be at dinner within the hour. Now, come say goodbye.”
Ioncu made a face at Vyvienne and then poised his hands as if he were going to tickle her. He made one step her direction before the toddler bolted around the table and into the cabinets of the kitchen.
“Vyvienne!” Dariena said loudly. “We don’t have time to play today. Get out of there.”
“Vivienne!” Ioncu yelled. “Stop moving this instant.”
Dariena looked concerned at her brother and then reached down and pulled open the cabinet where Vyvienne had sought concealment.
“Be very careful,” Ioncu said sternly and the little girl climbed out an stood next to her mother awkwardly. She was too young to understand the tension, but not too young to feel it. Dariena supported her son’s body with one arm and used the other to hold onto the countertop and kneel down beside the cabinet.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Ioncu said immediately.
Dariena reached into the cabinet and pulled out a knife made entirely of sharpened wood. She held it out a bit to get a good look and then put it back. She reached for a dagger beside it- also made entirely of wood. There were several of them in varying lengths and sizes.
“You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize me?” Dariena asked shakily. “Ioncu, this could send back to the dungeon or worse. They could execute you over this. Why would-”
“It’s not that,” Ioncu insisted again. “It really isn’t what you think. I made those, yes, but not to start any battles or kill any Xavias. It’s just- This place isn’t my home. And I’m reminded of that everyday. Every day when the guards change outside my house, I watch them. I hear them say things about me- how they aren’t losing their lives over me, how they think keeping me here is foolish, how they think I’m going to try to uproot the Xavian line. They can’t be trusted. They’re supposed to keep me here and protect me from any outside threats. They keep me here, but they are also the threats. I don’t feel I could trust them at all. Sometimes, it’s just easier to sleep if I have one of these nearby.” Ioncu knelt down next to his sister and took a dagger from her hand. “I should at least be given the chance to protect myself.”
“They aren’t even hidden well,” Dariena said, mostly for a lack of better things to say.
“They need to be quickly accessible,” Ioncu said calmly. “I just need them so I don’t have any more nightmares than I already have. I still dream of the war all the time. It’s the most horrifying thing. And the soldiers standing guard around my home are probably men who fought on the other side of the lines and have those same kinds of nightmares, but caused by me. They fought against me and my men. We probably killed people they knew, they loved. They’re not protecting me. They’re waiting for their chance to get even, to deliver justice. Dariena, I’m not safe here without my own defenses. I used to have swords of iron and steel and silver. Now I have wooden daggers and knives carved out of wood removed from under cabinets. Let me have that. I need that. No one has to know.”
Dariena fixed her brother with a sympathetic expression. “Please be careful, Ioncu.”
“Of course I will,” he assured and then turned his attention to Vyvienne. “Goodbye, Princess. I’ll see you soon, alright?.” He gave her a hug and kiss before looking at the tiny Prince and smiling softly. “Goodbye, Baby Sylviu.”
The next day, Ioncu received a letter from his sister. It only said, “Sylviu Ioan Mácsemilian. We decided both of our older brothers were important to us."
Siân
Monarch: Ciprian Juris Leighton Adelino Xavia
Consort: Dariena Lys [Airelen] Xavia
S: Crispyn Leamon Domenick Xavia
D: Vyvienne Yevgenia Iseult Xavia
S: Sylviu Ioan Mácsemilian Xavia
Ioncu was zooming Vyvienne around the room and listening to the sounds of her squealing as Dariena marked up another page of name ideas and scribbled them out again one by one.
"It's unsettling," she commented. "They're just worried."
Ioncu stopped and held the little girl on his hip. He fixed Dariena with a serious expression before saying, "I swear to you. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize you or your position. Am I discontent here? Yes, you know I am. Would I do something to put you or your family in danger? No. Absolutely not."
Dariena looked at her older brother. Ioncu had been upset for years. She couldn't remember a time when he was truly happy since before their parents died. He had always felt jaded or malcontent with something. But since Vyvienne's birth he had mellowed out a bit. He loved her and his anger had dissipated in the days since she started to visit him regularly.
Ioncu put Vyvienne back on her feet and pulled out a chair adjacent to his sister. He flipped it around backwards, straddling it to sit down.
“Your Highness,” Dariena said with a smirk as she took note of the position.
“Don’t make fun,” Ioncu retorted. “I’m a prisoner. There is no call to impress. I sit however I want.”
“I wasn’t making fun of you. I wouldn’t,” Dariena replied more sympathetically. “But you’re doing better now. You aren’t groundskeeping.”
They had allowed him a house within the perimeters of Bruna Castle's large, stone walls. Dariena had asked for it and Ciprian had granted it be built how she pleased. She chose something reminiscent of their former home- a villa-like little place with a parlor, bedroom, kitchen, washroom, and a veranda. It wasn’t the luxury he had been used to when he was a Prince of Veraseng, but it wasn’t the same way he had been treated when he first came to Bejagat either.
“I’m under house arrest,” Ioncu stated openly, looking at the walls around him. “I’m not yet thirty and I’ll be under house arrest for the rest of my life.”
“Lesser men would have killed both of us.”
“I would’ve killed them,” Ioncu spoke clearly and without hesitation. “If the situation had been reversed, if we had won the war, I would have gotten rid of all of them. It’s safer.”
“Ioncu, don’t say that!” Dariena hushed. “That’s not safe!”
Ioncu shrugged, “It’s true. I wouldn’t ever have the heir to a land I conquered living within walking distance of where my family sleeps.”
"They’re my family now too. They’re yours,” Dariena reminded, motioning to Vyvyienne who had settling in the floor to play with her little wooden toys. “Ciprian doesn’t think you’re heartless, just angry.” Dariena looked at the scribbled out paper again and placed it on the table with a sigh.
“Well, if situations had been reversed, I wouldn’t have them as family. I wouldn’t have married a Xavia. Adalyn was younger than Crispyn and Ciprian and his brothers just aren’t that attractive."
“You lie!” Dariena laughed. “You would have married Mácsen, but he was taken.”
“No one is taken if the King wants them.”
“Dangerous territory,” she warned. “Be cautious.”
Ioncu rolled his shoulders a bit. “Mácsen. Name the baby after him. It will appeal to your husband and most likely the people will appreciate it."
Dariena lifted the the blanket drapped over her shoulder and looked at the infant prince who was contently suckling from her sensitive breast. She frowned a bit.
“Mácsen has been wonderful, but I want this one to have his own name. I want him to have a name that presents the people of Bejagat so that he doesn’t ever feel too alienated from them. It’s easy for us to lose our place sometimes, forgetting the outside world.”
“Especially when you’re confined to your quarters,” Ioncu mumbled with a slight smirk. He pointed at one of the names she had crossed through.
“You’ve written Silvio multiple times on these lists. Then you always reject it. You obviously like it. Does Ciprian not?”
“He’s the one who first suggested it. The Sylvvan forrest covers almost all of the north of Bejagat. It just doesn’t have enough of the south in it to make it likable by the whole nation.” she shrugged. “I think he could even look like a Silvio, but I can’t keep from feeling like the people from home would grumble at the announcement.”
“Someone will grumble about any and every announcement you make for the rest of your life. Get used to that.” Ioncu laughed. “He’ll have to.” He reached and took the baby from his sister, causing the child to smack his lips and then start to cry at the loss of nourishment and warmth. “Oh, go ahead and cry. They’ll grumble and you’ll cry. And that’s how it will always be for you. You’re probably never going to rule either. Mazha and Dadja just had you so they would have a backup in case anything happened with that runt of a thing playing in the floor down there. But she’s feisty. She’ll eat you alive, boy. Better learn to be tough now. I think Silvio is good. You’ll need to be strong like the Sylvvan and able to last anything.”
“Give him back. You’re upsetting him,” Dariena scolded lightly and took the new prince back into her arms. She nestled the newborn to her side and helped his mouth find the right place so that he would quiet down and nurse again. She dropped the cloth back over her shoulder and sighed. “He needs a middle name to appease the South then. It’s just a name, but it’s still politics.”
“No, he needs Silvio to be spelled as if he were from Veraseng. With a Y in place of the first I. Sylvio.”
“Even better, we could spell it the complete Veraseng way with a U at the end and everything. He would be named after a northern place. The least they could allow would be to spell his name the way I would have if I were still a royal in our homeland.” Dariena spoke adamantly as she stood up and tucked the blanket around the little boy.
"Tell Ciprian that. If he cares about you as much as you claim, he’ll be glad to appease you with this."
“You make things so difficult,” Dariena said with an eyeball, but Ioncu smirked as if he were proud of himself. She shook her head and then turned to her daughter, “Vyvienne, come say goodbye to your uncle. It’s time to go."
Vyvienne frowned. “No, I wanna stay here,” her little voice responded with a whine.
“I want to move to the seaside, but you can’t move a castle the same way you can’t move meal times. We have to be at dinner within the hour. Now, come say goodbye.”
Ioncu made a face at Vyvienne and then poised his hands as if he were going to tickle her. He made one step her direction before the toddler bolted around the table and into the cabinets of the kitchen.
“Vyvienne!” Dariena said loudly. “We don’t have time to play today. Get out of there.”
“Vivienne!” Ioncu yelled. “Stop moving this instant.”
Dariena looked concerned at her brother and then reached down and pulled open the cabinet where Vyvienne had sought concealment.
“Be very careful,” Ioncu said sternly and the little girl climbed out an stood next to her mother awkwardly. She was too young to understand the tension, but not too young to feel it. Dariena supported her son’s body with one arm and used the other to hold onto the countertop and kneel down beside the cabinet.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Ioncu said immediately.
Dariena reached into the cabinet and pulled out a knife made entirely of sharpened wood. She held it out a bit to get a good look and then put it back. She reached for a dagger beside it- also made entirely of wood. There were several of them in varying lengths and sizes.
“You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize me?” Dariena asked shakily. “Ioncu, this could send back to the dungeon or worse. They could execute you over this. Why would-”
“It’s not that,” Ioncu insisted again. “It really isn’t what you think. I made those, yes, but not to start any battles or kill any Xavias. It’s just- This place isn’t my home. And I’m reminded of that everyday. Every day when the guards change outside my house, I watch them. I hear them say things about me- how they aren’t losing their lives over me, how they think keeping me here is foolish, how they think I’m going to try to uproot the Xavian line. They can’t be trusted. They’re supposed to keep me here and protect me from any outside threats. They keep me here, but they are also the threats. I don’t feel I could trust them at all. Sometimes, it’s just easier to sleep if I have one of these nearby.” Ioncu knelt down next to his sister and took a dagger from her hand. “I should at least be given the chance to protect myself.”
“They aren’t even hidden well,” Dariena said, mostly for a lack of better things to say.
“They need to be quickly accessible,” Ioncu said calmly. “I just need them so I don’t have any more nightmares than I already have. I still dream of the war all the time. It’s the most horrifying thing. And the soldiers standing guard around my home are probably men who fought on the other side of the lines and have those same kinds of nightmares, but caused by me. They fought against me and my men. We probably killed people they knew, they loved. They’re not protecting me. They’re waiting for their chance to get even, to deliver justice. Dariena, I’m not safe here without my own defenses. I used to have swords of iron and steel and silver. Now I have wooden daggers and knives carved out of wood removed from under cabinets. Let me have that. I need that. No one has to know.”
Dariena fixed her brother with a sympathetic expression. “Please be careful, Ioncu.”
“Of course I will,” he assured and then turned his attention to Vyvienne. “Goodbye, Princess. I’ll see you soon, alright?.” He gave her a hug and kiss before looking at the tiny Prince and smiling softly. “Goodbye, Baby Sylviu.”
The next day, Ioncu received a letter from his sister. It only said, “Sylviu Ioan Mácsemilian. We decided both of our older brothers were important to us."
Archived Thread - replies disabled
1