Medieval Fantasy Adult Only RP

All actions, no matter how small, carry at times unforeseen consequences... the extent of which can unleash unpredictable events and unwittingly change fates and affect the course and destiny of entire nations.

On this occasion, the day started off like any other, with morning dew that sparkled upon the grass and cobbled stones of the great city of Paris. A handful of tired guards were reaching the barracks for their well-earned rest after the lengthy and grueling night watch, their duties to keep the city safe and enforce law and order, now taken over by other guards who were refreshed and alert after a good night sleep.

At the heart of the city, the main streets opened up to many squares where merchants set up stalls to sell their stock, bringing fashionable goods, exotic food and much needed varied provisions from spices and fruits to cloth, tools, remedies, and other wares.



The people were spread across the city's different layers and levels according to their wealth, social class, and purchasing power.

At the highest level is where the castle staff and wealthy merchants lived in comfortable manors sprawled closest to the castle, along the main road, guarded by the passing knights and guards at the king's service. Their homes still enclosed by the gated walls which lead to the middle level.

This middle layer is where the larger portion of the law-abiding citizens lived. Traders of every kind, merchants, and ordinary citizens resided here. This layer was wider and larger than the rest. It was where most of the citizens and artisans lived. There was a healing house, the theatre and the barracks too. The barracks located here is where the knights worked at and the town's guards lived and trained. The barracks had holding cells and its own stables. Towards the end of this middle level, one would also find the many workshops and forges in full swing, the fumes and noises at times not so pleasant when passing them by, yet needed all the same.

A further wall separated them from the city slums, made of crammed, unkempt, and shoddy buildings, uneven and unsightly, a mish-mash of properties made of straw roofs and low-quality wood, ghastly to look at and unfit for human use, for they were often rat-infested dwellings if they could be called that. This lowest level of the city was crime-ridden, barely watched, where the riff-raff lived. A mixture of homeless, orphans, thieves, unemployed, or extremely low-paid workers shared this hideous area. The taverns here offered the ladies of the night ample clientele along with the cheapest meals and drinks, for travelers were occasionally forced to take up what rooms were spare if they reached the city after curfew. There was the grim orphanage too, but overall in this area, there were no neatly cobbled roads with pleasant flower pots, sculptures nor nice displays, rather it was a labyrinth of similar-looking streets, a mish-mash of uneven dirty floors made of muddy soil, badly laid down stones, steep coarse dark alleyways, and dusty paths, narrow spaces that were filthy and crowded by the day, or frightening by night. The slums are where one could find the cheapest and smallest accommodations for those lucky enough to be able to afford them, or mayhap a larger room to share among many other strangers.

Far from the bleak and despairing life that the citizens endured at the furthest and lowest corners of Capital city, right at the heart of the city itself, risen on a plateau above all others, sprouted the royal palace, elevated high for all to see from all corners even from a very great distance. This was the castle where the royal family lived and ruled over all the lands and vassals alike, which lacked nothing, even its own hunting grounds at the back of it.



The widowed king Conrad had grown old and weary, distraught at his wife's passing which he struggled to overcome so he had put all his trust upon duke Vincent to run the kingdom and educate his son until the youth was deemed worthy of the crown at his father's passing. An event that would eventually cripple his wings and power unless he somehow arranged a marriage between his daughter Vanessa and the unruly prince or found other effective ways to keep the young royal subdued... or murdered altogether if he became too uncooperative.

For now, the prince was still rather young and reckless, it had not escaped his attention the rumours that abound along the palace halls that the prince often absconded from the castle grounds without permission and without royal escort to roam the city beneath them at leisure, placing himself in inevitable danger.

On this morning, like any other, the duke came to his desk to read the reports of the events that had occurred far and wide across the kingdom so as to discuss any urgent matters with the old king and start discussing matters for the very favourable royal marriage.

Meanwhile... Sebastian, the prince's manservant and best friend, came to the prince's quarters knocking on the door thrice and letting himself in without waiting for a reply, to wake up the sleeping royal highness, prince Merthyr.

Sebastian had been working for the prince for about as long as he could remember. While he could be quite frustrating at times, they had grown quite close over the years. The similarity in their ages had something to do with it, though it was not always for the best. Merthry seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble and doing things he shouldn't, and while Sebastian could disagree with him, he could not tell the prince no. Perhaps because of that, some things had happened that lent to Vincent finding out the prince was not always where he needed to be.

That lead to this morning. Sebastian knocked on Merthyr's door thrice as a courtesy incase he was awake, before letting himself in. The prince was not usually awake on his own this early, but he still had to knock. Just incase. Sebastian bustled around the room preparing it, making sure the hearth was nice and warm so the prince would not catch a chill. When he was sure everything was ready, he woke up the prince. "Good morning, your highness." He said cheerfully, with clothes laid out and food on the table. "You have a nice full schedule today, so I suggest you get up."

Among the wealthy, was a lovely stone manor with white columns and plush gardens. Its grounds were lavishly made and extravagant in every direction. Staff was bustling about, opening the manor to the morning sun and fresh air.

A set of double doors was opened as the maiden in waiting brushed in, a smile plastered on her lips. Orange curtains were drawn back, “Good Morning M’Lady…”

No answer came and she clicked her tongue against her teeth, taking four sharp steps to the ruffled bed. “A Lady always gets up to great the day bright and early, M’Lady.” As she pulled back the covers a small gasp passed her lips.

The sight of gathered pillows greeted her as she began looking around the room for the person who was supposed to be within the bed. “M’Lady? Oh no.”

The maid ran from the room to alert the guards. As her steps faded down the hall, the chest at the foot of the bed cracked open. A small female frame blooming from its depths in haste.

Vanessa, daughter of Lord Victor and prisoner to the manor, hurriedly gathered her braid of clothe and tossed it out the open window. Making her way back to the chest she made sure the other end was fastened around the leg of her bed, then made her way back to the window.

Staring out of it she shook off her nerves. Last time she had simply tied knots into the clothe. It had been horrible to descended and she had fallen partially, knocking the wind from her lungs. She hadn’t been able to bend for weeks after.

This time she breaded the clothe and placed knots in it. Heavy footsteps clattered on the floor drawing closer as she ran for the door and stood behind it.

Three guards and the maid came in and went straight for the window. “She couldn’t have climbed that fast.”

The maid tsked, “this is her fifth time trying the window.”

“That it is…” sighed the guard, “we will alert the ga…”

Boom. Click.

Vanessa stood outside in the hall and placed the stolen key to her chambers in her pocket as she turned and began to run down its length. She ignored the banging and shouts that came from the inside of it.

Keeping to the servants passages she made her way toward the stables where she had stashed a bit of coin, a change of clothing and some food for the road. Freedom would be hers no matter her Fathers wishes.

Carefully she approached a brown horse with a black mane. Her finger pressed to her lips as she hushed it and slowly began opening its gate to free it from the stables. She didn’t need a saddle and would ride it bare if she must. Applying a saddle had taken too much time before.

This time, she shoved on male clothing and shoved her hair under a hat to hide her face. Using a stool to get on the horse, she happily mounted the large beast and clicked her tongue at it. Spurring it on slowly toward the gates.

Prince Merthyr sat up with a broad grin on his face

"Oh yes, indeed, Sebastian, a very full schedule. Did you know that it is the May Flower Festival today?" asked Merthyr as if his friend wouldn't know. "This time I am going to go out there and take a look at the flowers and the maidens and the city at large. So... best you give me those clothes you wear and you can wear mine in the mean time. ... that's an order... not a request" clarified Merthyr before his manservant could even consider protesting at the given orders.

"In case that good for nothing duke Vincent turns up in these quarters yet again to tell me all about his daughter's virtues and qualities. He needs to find a well dressed prince. Since the ball shall be masquarade at my request, you can have my own mask, over there. It will make it harder for him to know who's who. Though, honestly, if I were lady Vanessa, I would have ran away from home with such an overbearing father" admitted Merthyr clearly worn of hearing about the noblewoman.

"I have far more important things to do than to listen to his ongoing ramblings, I have to go out there and to see the world for myself" declared Merthyr picking the outfit he would have worn that day and handing it to Sebastian, selecting another one from his chest and stuffing it in a pain travel bag, in case he was running late on his return.

"I should be back before the festival even starts, but, you know how unpredictable cities can be... if anything delays me... just keep quiet and smile, wave at the crowds and all will be well" assured Merthyr certain the impersonation would work rather well even in the worse case scenario that he failed to return on time.

Lady Morgana de Valois was an aristocratic, young, beautiful if cunning woman who was heiress of a noble ancient family household in search of an equally wealthy husband. She was slim and well built, with ebony long hair and deep blue eyes that caught anyone's attentions.



Her mother Vivienne had married the Duke Charles de Valois, a man who already had a daughter, Eleana de Valois, a girl who would have taken all from Morgana had her father Charles not died in such a timely fashion. No sooner the man, Morgana's step father was dead and buried, her rather ruthless mother Vivienne de Valois disinherited and cast Eleana out to the streets. It was a necessary evil so that Morgana could acquire a nobility she had not been born into but rather brought into by marriage.

Morgana was sure Eleana would get by one way or other for Paris was a grand city that offered many opportunities for the lower classes as well. However, it would take time for Eleana to find her feet out there in the poor man's world so when the girl returned to the household seeking paid work, her mother Vivienne had refused outright, yet Morgana took pity. Morgana had seen it best to let the girl stay and work and earn her coin and food, the least she could give the girl whilst she found herself a place to live and another well paying job.

This morning, however, Eleana was running late and Morgana losing her patience waiting for her handmaid. This morning, of all possible mornings, was not the time for lateness. The Flower Festival would start at soon and it waited for no one. Those maidens who had failed to turn up, would not be announced or invited inside the palace to the ball. Morgana had to get ready and attend in a timely fashion, least she found disfavour for her poor time keeping.

"Where is she?" demanded Vivienne, the grumpy mother.

"I... I don't know... she'll be here soon, I'm sure..." trailed off Morgana with hesitation in her voice, not entirely sure if the girl would come at all or not.

"We have a lot of shopping to do and a lot of preparations for this evening festival" complained Vivienne turning on her heels and walking off disgusted, slamming the door shut, impatient for Elena to turn up so she could carry the shopping. It wouldn't do for a noble woman to ferry her purchases, such task was made for maids and servants, not nobility.

Sebastian was caught slightly off guard by Prince Merthy getting up so willingly and launching into an explanation of his whole plan, not really giving Sebastian a chance to say anything. The prince seemed to be more than aware that his friend would not agree with his plan at all, and wished to keep him quite while he rushed him into it. Sometimes Sebastian thought he didn't think about how badly things would reflect on a servant, and that he wasn't the only one who would get punished.

"But highness.. this does not sound smart at all. I know you long to be free, but it is dangerous for you to be out there alone, and I don't know if I can pull this off. Duke Vincent is already suspicious, and impersonation is not a crime that I wish to be caught perpetuating. Or what if he finds out, and forces me into things you would not agree to.." He trailed off, knowing his protest was not likely to change Merthy's mind. He did not think they should do this at all, but the prince was headstrong, and ultimately he could not refuse an order. All he could do was voice his concerns, and hope the prince would think about it.

Her head was tilted down, eyes diverted to the road she was on as the horse pulled into a long line of those waiting to leave the gates. Her breath came in fast and her nerves were frayed from the possibility of being caught.

The fear of being dragged back and forced into a dress to entertain a man she had no wishes to be around made her stomach bubble with disgust and tension. The horse was pulled to a slow crawl of a walk.

Stealing a glance up her hands moved to her hair to make sure it was tucked. It was too hot for a face covering but she thought now would have been a good time to wear one.

The closer she got to the gate the more she felt unnerved. On the other side of that gate she could be anyone she wanted. Perhaps take a ship and never come back to these lands. Get a small cottage on the edge of the woods with a garden and some animals for food and drink.

Vanessa smiled at the idea of doing embroidery and selling that. Perhaps she could learn to make dresses for the locals and take to that for coin.

A soft sigh passed her lips and she calmed a bit. Lowering her shoulders and released the tension within them.

The sunlight filtered through the gaps in the worn wooden slats of the roof, casting thin, golden beams across Elena’s face. She groaned softly, pulling the threadbare blanket tighter around her shoulders, willing herself to stay in her dream for just a few more moments. Five more minutes... she thought, clinging to the fading echo of a familiar laugh and the feel of wind whipping through her hair as her mare galloped across an endless, grassy plain.

"Slower, Ella, or we’ll end up on the ground!" His words, warm and teasing, drifted to her like honey, and she smiled as she eased back on the reins, handing control over to the unseen figure behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder, but his face was obscured by mist, a memory she couldn’t fully grasp. A knot tightened in her chest as she realized with a pang of sorrow that his features were slipping from her mind, becoming more blurred with each passing day.

Frustrated, Elena sat up abruptly, rubbing the remnants of sleep—and tears—from her eyes with the back of her hand. She stretched, her muscles stiff from another restless night, before quickly changing into her faded dress and slipping her feet into her well-worn shoes. She sighed as she noticed yet another hole in the fabric. Another thing to add to the list, she thought. Might as well wash it tonight and see what other holes crop up before I sit down to sew.

She pushed open the creaky wooden door to her small room and stepped into the main space of the cottage. The entire place was shabby, every inch of it made from uneven, weathered wood, as though it had been hastily built and long forgotten. The walls, barely insulated, let in drafts on colder days, and the roof was patchy at best, allowing sunlight—and rain, when it came—to leak through the cracks. The cottage had two rooms: hers and Zach’s, though his was little more than a closet compared to hers. A small, windowless bathroom sat off to one side, just large enough for a rickety tub and a chipped sink. The smell of damp wood lingered in the air, and despite the warmth of the morning sun, Elena shivered slightly.

She sighed as her gaze swept across the space. It was a far cry from the grand home she had grown up in, but it felt worlds away from the oppressive gloom of Vivienne’s house. That woman, she thought, suppressing a shudder as her stomach twisted. Just the thought of her stepmother made her feel cold. And then it hit her—today was that day. How could I have slept in today, of all days?

Movement outside the cottage door caught her attention. Zach hobbled in, his basket already brimming with freshly picked herbs from his early morning foraging. He nodded to her as he limped toward the kitchen corner, and Elena gave him a small smile.

“Morning, Zach. Sorry I slept in again,” she said quickly, grabbing a larger slice of yesterday’s bread from the table. “I’ll pick up more supplies at the festival later, and if I’m still behind, I’ll go scavenging myself once I’m back from the manor.” She stuffed the bread into her mouth and waved him off, already halfway out the door. “Maybe I’ll see you there! Gotta run!”

Without waiting for a reply, Elena sprinted down the lane, tearing off bites of the tough bread as she went. The slums around her were alive with the sounds of the morning, people stirring from their homes, dogs barking, and children running barefoot through the muddy streets. The ramshackle houses here were crammed together in uneven rows, their straw roofs sagging under years of neglect. The buildings were all of rough, splintered wood, barely held together, with some leaning so precariously they looked ready to collapse at any moment. Rats scurried underfoot, darting in and out of the shadows as she picked up her pace.

The further she ran, the more the landscape of the city changed. The slums began to give way to the middle level, where the streets were wider and the buildings sturdier. Here, merchants were already setting up their stalls, displaying fabrics, spices, and trinkets for sale. The clang of blacksmiths’ hammers echoed from the nearby forges, while the pungent smell of smoke filled the air. Elena grimaced as she passed the workshops, the acrid fumes burning her throat, but she pressed on.

She was nearing the heart of the city now, where the wealthy lived in sprawling manors nestled along the main road. Guards patrolled these streets, their polished armor gleaming in the sunlight as they kept watch over the comings and goings of the upper class. The castle loomed in the distance, its high walls casting a long shadow over the city below, but Elena wasn’t headed there today. Instead, her feet carried her to a place she hadn’t seen in years—Vivienne’s manor.

Panting, she finally arrived at the doorstep, her heart racing from more than just the run. She stood there for a moment, catching her breath, her eyes tracing the familiar cracks in the stone steps. She remembered playing on these very steps as a child, back when the manor had felt like home. Her gaze landed on a small stain near the door—a faded mark from a long-ago incident when she’d spilled wine in a clumsy attempt to carry a tray like the servants. Vivienne had scolded her for days, but her father had only laughed, ruffling her hair as he cleaned up the mess.

Father... The thought of him brought a dull ache to her chest. She hadn’t been able to save him. The illness had taken him, and now she was left with nothing but memories. Memories and Vivienne.

Swallowing her rising emotions, Elena knocked on the door. A servant opened it quickly, his expression one of relief as he recognized her.

“Finally. They’ve been upset about your lateness,” he muttered, ushering her inside quickly.

“They are upstairs, don’t dawdle.” He motioned with his head up the grand staircase before setting off for the kitchens, where a delightful aroma was wafting to the front door. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air, making her stomach growl, but Elena turned away from the tantalizing smells, forcing herself to focus.

The grand staircase rose before her, its polished wood gleaming in the light from the high windows. The manor was just as she remembered it—elegant and cold, with long, marble-tiled corridors and tall, ornate doors that seemed too heavy for her to push open. As she made her way up the stairs, the sound of her shoes echoed in the empty hall. Each step felt like a march toward her own demise. The hallway stretched out before her, lined with portraits of ancestors she barely recognized, their eyes seeming to follow her as she walked.

Finally, she reached the last door on the left. Her heart pounded in her chest as she raised a trembling hand to knock. Steady, she told herself, smoothing her dress and taking a deep breath. With a soft knock, she opened the door and stepped inside.

“I’m here, M’Lady,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Merthyr looked at Sebastian and nodded in agreement

"You are absolutely right, if lord Vincent discovers the truth and forces you into things I wouldn't agree to, it is far better that you do them in my stead and on my behalf for I would certainly loathe to do them" smiled Merthyr

"I thank you for your service, whatever such unpleasant thing might happen to be. For now, I must be on my way I am rather late already" excused Merthyr hurrying away through the servants corridors and quarters and sneaking outside the palace through the servants gate to pass by unnoticed by the guards.

Vivienne walked off disgusted "You're late, I should give you ten lashes and send you away, for good" scoffed the woman walking off to the carriage that awaited them to take them to the shops and festival.

Morgana watched her mother leave turning to Elena. "Seems no time for breakfast today, come along, there's much to buy and even more to do" urged Morgana in a calmer tone.

There was no denying the young damsel was stunning and needed not a new dress to Impress the attendants at the ball, but, that didn't matter, only her mother's wishes mattered in all things and all occasions.

She turned to the staircase, coming out of the carriage and hoping to have Elena follow her right away without further delays. She had not asked for the cause of the delay and she wouldn't, after all, servant's problems where not her concern but her mother's.

With each moment her heart felt heavier and heavier. The Knights took their leisure time checking carts. She hadn’t counted the process to be so long. Even so. She could see the gates grow closer as she pulled her horse to walk slowly then pause as the line awaiting to leave halted.

Vanessa closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer. She knew her father meant well, but his desires did not align with her own. She had no misconceptions or thoughts of grandeur when it came to love and marriage. She simply wanted to be the one to make the choice. If she was going to be spending her entire life with someone, baring their children, and assisting to run their lands. She wanted to at least choose the man.

The gate was before her now, sweat beaded her brow and ran down her spine. Anxiety made her palms itch as she gripped the reins tighter in her hands. A Knight beckoned her forward through the gates and she exhaled a shaky breath. Finally outside the gates she smiled, pulling her horse to a slow walk.

“Halt.”

The command of the voice made her jump as she turned to look at a Knight who came toward her with board, parchment, and ink. She had hoped she would not be asked anything since she had no inventory.

“Y…yes?” She cleared her throat and tried to deepen her voice to sound more male.

“Name?”

Vanessa looked at the Knight and then the board he carried, “Erm. V..in. Vin.”

The Knight had no helmet at this moment and eyed her with a corked brow. “No family name.”

Vanessa lowered her gaze, “no. I am orphaned, sir.”

The Knight offered a half apology and asked some more arbitrary questions. Each moment speaking with him was another moment the Knight she had locked in her room could break free and sound the alarms to alert all of her escape.

"That's not what I meant..." Sebastian mumbled as Merthyr twisted his words for the better, dropping his head slightly in defeat. He knew there was no point in arguing, and by the time he could even come up with an attempt, off went the prince and he was left standing there all alone.

With a sigh he began dressing in the prince's clothes, doing his best to as closely resemble the prince as he could. While it could definitely fool strangers, he wasn't sure how well he could fool those that were closer to the Prince. Sebastian himself would have no problem seeing through any attempt like this, but he knew the prince way better than even his father. Hopefully Sebastian could get out of doing some things before Merthy could get back, and hopefully he wouldn't be late.

Merthyr knew the path well, he had followed it when he rehearsed his escape enough times to know by heart the guards timings, routes and names, the butler and housekeeper's moves, everything should go well enough that he could blend in for a bit without catching attention and leave without being seen or at least noticed.

It all played exactly as it should except for a pair of eyes that followed him from the high tower, none other than duke Vincent himself, curled lips showing a tinge of satisfaction.

If the sheltered prince was murdered in the slums, of his own doing, the manservant would be a good enough replacement. With that thought in mind, he made no gesture to stop the prince from his own folly and made his way to the prince's quarters where he expected none other than the manservant impersonating the prince.

Vincent knocked Merthyr's chamber's door thrice and let a maid open it, while she brought tea and biscuits in, giving opportunity for Vincent to enter as well.

"Greetings, your highness, and what a fine it is" saluted Vincent formally bowing at Sebastian's back to not raise suspicion with the maid, waving her away as soon as she left the room and slamming the door shut, that they may talk in greater liberty.

Sebastian had hoped he could get out of some of the things on the prince's to do list today, and just hide out until he returned. His hopes were dashed however, when a knock sounded on his door, and he heard Vincent's voice behind him. Surely he couldn't have found out already, it had barely been but an hour since the prince had taken off, and Sebastian hadn't even left the room or interacted with anyone. However, the resounding slam of the door behind them, cracked any hope he had of not being discovered.

He couldn't help but sigh, frustrated at the prince for putting him in this situation, and not looking forward to whatever Vincent would have in mind. "Lord Vincent." He said, sounding a little resigned but trying his best just in case he hadn't actually been found out. He turned to face the lord, resisting the urge to bow until he knew for sure he was caught.

There was a loud shout coming from the manor she had just left. Her eyes lifted to that direction as the sound of shouts grew louder and more alarmed. Knights were now hollering orders.

“Close the gates! Don’t let anyone else out!”

Vanessa immediately froze and turned to the Knight to whom she had been speaking. “It seems they are calling for you. Mayhaps you should go and answer.”

Even as she spoke those words she could see the other Knights nearest the gate proceeding with the hollered orders. Her panic rose as the orders being yelled became louder and clearer.

The Knight looked at her and smiled apologetically. “We have to close the gates. Step inside and…”

“But I was already cleared to leave sir!”

A squire was running over as Vanessa felt the tension in her hands. Her palms itched, and were becoming increasingly damp.

She could see she was losing time and her chance. The squire came and gave his orders as told to him by their Commander. The Knight looked concerned then stared at her.

“I must ask you to get off the horse and take off your cap lad.”

Vanessa bit her lip and looked at the Knight, “please…” she pleaded. Only to see him shake his head. She knew if she were to ride off, the horse would be chased down and she would be dragged off kicking and screaming. She was a prisoner here. And she hated it.

“I was…trying to go see the Prince. Per my Fathers wishes Lord Vincent. I merely wanted to meet him without the pretense of name and title.”

The Knight nodded, “then step off Lady Vanessa and we will have a carriage brought around. A squire will be sent ahead of time to make Lord Vincent aware of your soon to be arrival. I would suggest you go and make yourself pretty for the occasion.”

Vanessa slid off the horse and landed with a thud. Face downtrodden, “yes, Sir.”

"Milady! you look such a mess! If your father were to see you in this attire he shall surely be ashamed" half scolded Cassandra, escorting the boyishly dressed damsel back to her rooms to change and pamper up.

"Today, of all days, one must dress to impress, lady Vanessa. Noon will be the Spring Flower Festival and your father most certainly will have you summoned to the royal courts sooner than later" reminded Cassandra running her a bath, selecting the outfit and jewelry to match.

"I trust your attire hasn't made you forget your manners and protocol, Sebastian. Servants are meant to bow before nobility, as you ought to in my presence. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but notice the prince's haste in leaving the palace walls. You two can fool others, but not the prince's tutor. We have all spent enough time together to know each other well" Pointed out Vincent

"Perhaps protocol can be overlooked for a time, if you are prepared to follow orders. No one needs be none the wiser. Do as I ask off you and I will aid your ruse. The alternative, of course, are the dungeons. A charge of impersonating royalty, might even cost you your life, your freedom and the king's trust for sure" trailed off Vincent

"So what will it be?" Asked Vincent

Sebastian sighed softly as Vincent began speaking, before bowing deeply. "Of course, sire." He said solemnly. He hadn't had much hope that the tutor hadnt of known, but how he had known he didn't know until know. He still wasn't thrilled the prince had put him in this position, and knowing how much Vincent wanted the prince to marry his daughter, left him more concerned about this 'deal' he was being offered.

"I tried to dissuade him, but you know how stubborn he is." He said with a slight shake of his head. "Given my options.. you will have no trouble with me. In case you are thinking anything life changing, the he will be back before the festival." He cautioned politely.

"Perhaps he will return, perhaps not. Prince Merthyr has not been beyond the gates enough times to know that they will be locked and guarded heavily when the fair starts. Let's hope he's a resourceful young man for he may well end up sleeping rough with the homeless tonight" trailed off lord Vincent spelling out the harsh realities many commoners of few financial means had to endure which the prince had likely failed to consider.