THE CITY OF CALIPSOS awakened the next morning in a drowsy mood. Merchants, hungover from the previous night's drinking stumbled across in the orange light of sunrise to their market stalls and tents.
Business was still business to the traders, and no matter the veisalgia, every day was a chance to earn good coin.
Lords and Ladies awakened in grand bedrooms to breakfast already served by their house servants, and Blue Cloak Patrols set to the much disliked job of waking up the drunkards asleep on the streets.
The carnival was over but the partying had left it's mark on the denizens. The Merchants had a raging headache. The Lords and Ladies were somber.
The Blue Cloaks were woozy with unfulfilled sleep, and every awakened drunk cursed the Officers responsible before taking off in the opposite direction.
High in the upper story of the downtown tavern stood Marsil, dressed perfectly in his black attire. His silver mask lay on a cushion by a corner of the room.
The Vampire Prince stood facing the window once more, his sight set on the West, a place he was about to journey to. The domicile of Lord Geralt Cranmer, one of the men he thought never to meet again in his life.
Marsil had awakened before the sunrise. A dip in a pool in the bathhouse some minutes later and he came back refreshed.
Once he had his dark tunic on, he had awakened his friends, all of whom groggily stood up. The girls had stalked off to the private women's area, while Hemlock murmured under his breath, slamming into the door a few times before he made a safe exit.
The young man had been befuddled with sleep but at Marsil's stern tone, he had moved for the bathhouse. It was only after all three had left that the Prince felt serenity once more, which was how he came to be standing by the window.
A maid had walked in few minutes ago to dress the room and clear the area. Marsil didn't turn from his stance as she plumped the pillows and smoothed the sheets.
She left and returned some moments later with the breakfast he'd ordered. The young woman lowered the tray of dairy cheese and buttered toast. She sent a quick glance at the hot male standing before her but he seemed to be lost in his head.
She took the moment to rake her eyes over his toned form clad in a black tunic that reached just below his knees with black pants under. She'd been forgotten in her perusal of the handsome gladiator when the girls walked back in.
They were the first to arrive from their bath.
Esabel caught the girl staring at her brother by the window and frowned at her.
"That will be all," she said.
The maid quickly dropped her eyes, lowering her head as she walked out. She was moving out the door just as Hemlock was walking in. The young man had a fresher tinge on his skin from his bath and his green-black tattoos glistened on his neck.
Since his hair was still red, Esabel concluded it was no dye. Hemlock was an actual Ginger. His eyes went over the maid's full hips as she scurried away and Esabel rolled her eyes.
"Must you always ogle every piece of ass you see?"
He met the Princess's rhetoric statement with a smile of his. The young man was obviously handsome, and it seemed he knew he was. The constant flirty grins directed at Esabel confirmed it.
"Yes I must, my pretty princess," he taunted back.
"Women in their nature are meant to be admired, or don't you agree?"
Hemlock had his smug look in place and it clear he was playing wits with her. If she answered NO, it would mean she disagreed women were beautiful. If she said YES, it would only solidify his claim.
Esabel chose to remain silent and his grin stretched wider. She turned her thoughts from the cocky young man to someone quieter, brooding and alone. To her brother, Marsil.
She walked across the bedroom and stood by his side at the windows. The others joined shortly; Ferra took Esabel's side and Hemlock stood with them, and soon, all four pair of eyes were pointed at the west.
A moment of silence reigned on the group for a while. Unsurprisingly, it was Hemlock who broke it.
"Morning! Lord Silverheel," he greeted with a smile, looking up to the taller man.
The Prince's profile was beautiful in the rosy morning's light and Hemlock could clearly see why the maid had ogled him. If he was a woman, he'd want to fuck the Prince too.
Marsil pulled his eyes away from the open window for a moment to stare down at him. He gave a small nod in reply to Hemlock's greeting.
"Gods! Man. Your silver eyes still dazzle me."
It was Hemlock again, staring at Marsil like he was a Sailor's treasure-trove. The Vampire Prince immediately pulled his eyes away from the redhead.
"How are you?" he asked, turning to the young women.
His question was directed at both of them and the girls smiled up at his moon eyes.
"Bath was nice," Esabel replied.
"I know you arranged the hot water, thank you," Ferra added in her calm voice.
Marsil gave a small nod, then at Ferra's keen mind, he gave a smile, and the girls went 'WOW!' They also went peach, pink creeping up their necks fast as their blinking eyes.
...If only the Prince knew how striking he was when he smiled.
But Marsil wasn't one to debate on looks. He reached across to Ferra, tucking back a few strands of her midnight hair that had fallen over her cheek.
"I'm always here," he said to both of them then turned back to the window.
The sun played with his pale hair, turning it a shade of gold. His eyes shone, and the rays streaming in made them sparkle. It was obvious in all staring eyes of Hemlock, the Princess, and Ferra that the handsome Prince before them wasn't human.
The young gladiator had Faerie heritage.
...but Esabel knew even if Marsil was to stand among the Faeries, he would still stand out. He just had that distingushed air about him, showcased that day in the arena which made the people call him a legend.
The Legend of Silverheel...
"I found what I'm looking for," Marsil began, breaking the spell of his friends thoughts.
"I will be making a journey to the West few moments from now..." He turned away from the window, looking down to Esabel before going on.
"...I've sent the city's Patrols with a message to father. You and Ferra will be returning to the Castle as I shall continue my journey alone—"
"What!?!" Esabel interrupted. It was clear the Princess disliked the last part of his speech.
"No, I'm coming with you," she continued.
"No," Marsil growled.
"...this is a settled matter. I would not put you in harm's way. Out there are people disloyal and perverse. It's a journey I have to undertake alone."
"No, you don't," Esabel fired, her blue eyes lighting up. "You just like being a loner."
Marsil's lips twitched.
"You really think to sway me with barbs?"
Esabel lowered her eyes at his words. Her brother was brilliant and had caught on her ploy.
She was hoping to get him to change his mind by using hot-headed words, but since it clearly wasn't working she opted for the last resort.
"Well if you don't let me come with you, I'll just follow from a distance. I wonder what'll happen when those disloyal and perverse men get their han—"
"Fine!" Marsil thundered, gritting his teeth.
"...I will send some other guards to father to tell him we wish to tarry awhile."
Esabel smirked at his discomfort. She chose to use his honorable heart of duty to protect her as a last resort. It seemed to have worked more than she'd expected.
"Thank you brother," she said, her lips curling.
The Prince turned to the next woman who had his heart.
"Ferra—" he began. Before he could say anything else, the young woman stopped him, her hand moving to his chest.
"I feel I should stop you before you say anything else. You should know by now I would follow you both to the ends of the world," she said, looking between the Prince and the Princess.
Esabel went a little misty-eyed at her words and the moment was solemn before Hemlock's syrupy voice interrupted it.
"Aww!!!" he crooned.
Three pairs of annoyed eyes instantly turned to him.
"Oh, I'm coming too," he quickly said.
"This sounds like what would be the first pages of our exploits in the Bard's book of heroes. Besides," he added with a smirk.
"...I get to be friends with the hottest people in town, not to mention the royal family."
Marsil shook his head at Hemlock, before turning back to look out the window. Esabel turned also. So did Ferra. Hemlock was the last to follow their eyes.
The four of them all stared out at the dunes and fields in the distance, colored orange and green in the light of the sun.
It was as they all looked out to the picturesque glory of the summerlands that Hemlock said.
"Very well, my friends. WE RIDE FOR THE WEST!"
Smiles dotted everyone's lips at the redhead's words, the Vampire Prince included.