"As you wish, then," Quentin responded with a casual shrug. He turned on his heel to lead the guards and Cicada out of the dungeon, up the stairs. "Hopefully you'll come to see that I mean you no ill," he said as they walked. "Especially once you see the nice room I have prepared for you."
Cicada followed (was pulled) after him most her chains still on. She looked around taking in every turn and passageway for… later. Her eyebrow raised at the mention of a nice room. She figured it wouldn’t be much larger than her cell, but at the very least have a bed, “We’ll see.”
Quentin hummed casually as they continued along, finally reaching a hallway. He led them down it and stopped in front of a large door with more guards already standing by. "Please, don't try to escape or do anything crazy," he asked calmly. "I really don't want to have to put you back in the dungeon, so I won't as long as you be good." He smiled and opened the door.
The room was actually very large and very nice. Granted, the windows had been barred over– undoubtedly to ensure she wouldn't escape through them– but the bedroom was well decorated and massive, with a huge bed dominating one corner, a couch, and some other nice furniture throughout.
"Ta-da!" He gestured excitedly to the room, beaming as he turned back to face her.
Cicada stepped only slightly into the room so she could get a sense of its massive scale. She hadn’t been expecting something like this. It took a lot of effort not to appear in awe of the place. As she looked around she quickly started to figure this was possibly bigger than her old room when she lived in the palace. Her eyes wandered back to the prince as she chose the words for her response carefully, “It is nice. I suppose maybe you don’t have any ill will towards me.”
Quentin beamed at this. "Make yourself at home, Princess." He stepped back and nodded the guards towards her, and they removed any remaining shackles she may have had. Of course, the guards still filled the distance between her and Quentin– as he still believed she'd kill him if given the opportunity, and he was no fan of dying. "You like it, then?" he inquired hopefully.
Cicada rubbed at her wrists as they were freed. The skin was red, raw and throbbing and it hurt like a bitch. She didn't have the energy to take on the prince and his guards at the moment. But she despised how pleased Quentin was at her reaction. It felt like she was playing into his hand and she hated that, but she couldn't be completely dishonest either, "It's, adequate. Better than the cell."
"Hm." Quentin hummed, smiling with delight. "I'm glad you think so." He paused a moment, intertwining his fingers together. "Since you don't want to have to have breakfast with me, I suppose I'll have the guards bring you up something to eat," he said, almost regretfully, as if he were hoping she'd be willing to eat with him rather than here by herself.
"That's fine with me," Cicada responded nodding her head once. She hated the regret in his voice. Of course, she didn't want to eat with him. She didn't want to eat with him the previous night and she didn't want to eat with him now. Either way she would gladly take whatever the guards bring her rather than eating with him.
Quentin nodded a bit and disappeared. The guards stepped out, too, closing the door behind them– but they stayed outside and stood guard to make sure she didn't try to escape.
Meanwhile, Quentin ordered the chef to prepare her a meal.
(Alright so wdyt should happen next?? :3)
(Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, sorry I've been working on an essay so my brain is idea wiped. Buuuuuuut having the pair be forced closer together in some way might be fun :3)
(Lol meeeee toooooooo. I understand the pain XD. Yes, we need to force them together. More interactions. More forced interactions.)
(So many more forced interactions. All the forced interactions XD)
( XD INFINITE FORCED INTERACTIONS. Essentially just grab both of the characters and lock them in a room together and tell them "okay you people are going to interact or we'll kill you so have fun." Problem solves. But fr tho I'll try to brainstorm something that can happen and when your brain comes back to life you can try to brainstorm and then we'll flood each other with brilliant ideas. XD)
(Yes, that is a wonderful plan. It's been dead for days now, so don't expect anything anytime soon XD)
(Mmmm idea came to me. Maybe there's some type of event and his parents are demanding to see that he made progress with her. So both of them are forced together throughout the whole thing.)
(Ooh yes. This is a good idea. So he is more desperate to make progress and internally like :') lol if I don't make any progress this is going to suck for both of us so please COMPLY and pretend that I've made progress but externally he's just like ':) I'm chill it's cool just come to this event with me)
(Yesssssssssssssssssssssssss, and Cicada is just like, um no the entire time. Let's do this then.)
(Yes yes brilliant! Should I start, or shall you? And what sort of event do you think it should be?)
(I can start if you can wait until morning (It’s close to midnight where I’m at) and maybe some type of formal dinner or ball? Balls are fun.)
(Yes. Balls. I vote for that. Sure, I'll wait. ^-^ It's… uh… Almost 1 am here, so I know how you feel. 'XD I stay up waaaay too late, honestly, but it's fine.)
(Okay! I’ll make sure to do that then. (Also go to sleep child. It’s good for you lol))
The past few days had been interesting for Cicada. At first, the move into the room hadn't brought anything significant. The prince still came daily, sometimes multiple times a day, and the guards never left her room. She had been forced into a bath, which she was partially okay with, and she had been watched over to make sure she was eating the food they gave her. All of that had been partially expected by her, but what was happening more recently was stranger. Maids were coming in with seamstresses taking Cicada's measurements and bringing in cloth swatches. Cicada had been less than cooperative, she didn't know what they were doing, but she didn't like it. What need was there for her to have whatever they were making? She had been trying to ask the prince, but the seamstresses had been taking up most of her day and when the prince finally came around she was snippy and defensive.
Quentin came back one evening, after the seamstresses had finished harassing Cicada. As usual, he was accompanied by guards, who knocked thrice on her door before entering.
The doors swung open slowly. "Princess," Quentin greeted calmly, a smile on his face. He was dressed nicer than usual– and that was saying a lot, considering he was generally dressed to impress. "I have a surprise for you."
Cicada had been scrubbed heavily from head to toe. Her hair had then been done up and her circlet removed before she shoved it back into place enjoying the silence of minds that came with it. She had then been shoved into the deep red ballgown that was some mixture of poofy and fit and she was not loving it. It fit too tight on the top and the bottom felt like it was eating her up despite being tailored to her design. She didn't know where to put her wings other than a strange mixture of flared and tucked in to account for the fit top and puffy bottom. In her old kingdom she would have just worn a semi-tight dress, none of this poofy bottom crap. She looked to the prince with a mixture of annoyance, rage, and hatred, "It better not have anything to do with this dress."
Quentin grinned widely. "Oh, but it has everything to do with that dress." He clasped his hands together and announced, "You'll be accompanying me to a very important ceremony tonight. A ball, to be precise." He admired her dress a moment and before smiling yet again– though, to be fair, he never stopped. "And you look stunning, my dear. Absolutely stunning."