Post by Emile Deveraux on Jan 7, 2016 11:27:49 GMT -5
So, she wasn’t going to promise. What a little lying bitch. She was just as everyone else, stringing people along for their amusement whilst preparing the knife with which to stab into their back. Specifically when it came to his family, it seemed nothing could be trusted at face value. Emile had thought that Antoinette, among few others, could be counted upon to be real with him, forthcoming with the truth. As it were, he’d come here only to make a fool of himself, thinking that he had ever a moment to be considered as worthy. Seemed lest you were the head of a wealthy family, controlling of lands and people that the Crown needed, you were nothing to these two blonde manipulators. Well, he wasn’t to make that mistake twice.
Surely, he was angry, and his emotions were flying in that direction without much pause. He felt such disappointment and frustration that he might have crushed something in his hand without much notice. As it were, he looked to his cousin deadpan whilst she commanded he disappear. “As her Royal Highness bids,” he seethed, bowing before turning and making his way back towards the on-going celebrations.
Emile could hardly think straight, and neither did he particularly want to anymore. He was truly and well alone, save for perhaps Martine but she could not protect him, could not fix their futures. It seemed, besides their father and brother’s interference, that they were both doomed to whatever fate came to the crown bearer. Either they would be elevated, a prize Emile thought prosperous but dangerous, or they would be crushed and surely put into as much of a miserable place as their would-be Queen could manage. He hated them, right then, the both of them.
Apparently it was all or nothing for him: become the first line of Deveraux, with his brother as King, or lose any luxury he might ever have had. He never truly thought he’d find himself wanting to help his parents and Stephane succeed, but damn if Antoinette wasn’t just shoving him in that direction.
________________________________________
@antoinettedeveraux
Surely, he was angry, and his emotions were flying in that direction without much pause. He felt such disappointment and frustration that he might have crushed something in his hand without much notice. As it were, he looked to his cousin deadpan whilst she commanded he disappear. “As her Royal Highness bids,” he seethed, bowing before turning and making his way back towards the on-going celebrations.
Emile could hardly think straight, and neither did he particularly want to anymore. He was truly and well alone, save for perhaps Martine but she could not protect him, could not fix their futures. It seemed, besides their father and brother’s interference, that they were both doomed to whatever fate came to the crown bearer. Either they would be elevated, a prize Emile thought prosperous but dangerous, or they would be crushed and surely put into as much of a miserable place as their would-be Queen could manage. He hated them, right then, the both of them.
Apparently it was all or nothing for him: become the first line of Deveraux, with his brother as King, or lose any luxury he might ever have had. He never truly thought he’d find himself wanting to help his parents and Stephane succeed, but damn if Antoinette wasn’t just shoving him in that direction.
________________________________________
@antoinettedeveraux