the wine.
A tall, slender bottle, its glass dark as mourning attire, filled a unmistakable dark red.
He sniffed it once. Rich wicked. Floral on the nose, like the breath of someone you should never kiss twice.
And then he turned.
Her seat had already been prepared.
+
and my hands tragically empty until yours arrive to fill them.
Your Prince (for as long as it amuses you),
Valerian Caius. +
Victoria,
If youβre reading this, it means I slipped it beneath your pillow while you werenβt looking.
Surprised? I know how to be subtle when it counts.
Despite my long and frequent absences I find my thoughts turn to you even at the most inopportune times.
+
Valerian leaned in gently brushing away the moisture around her eyes with his thumb.
"There is always a catch when dealing with demons but you my dear are worth any danger."
Softly pressing his lips against her fingers the young prince nodded.
Let her come.
Waiting was a game of its own.
@nightmaresuccubus.bsky.social
So, Iβve decided the only suitable balm is your presence to take you up on your invitation to a evening of just the two of us over candlelight, wine, and whatever ambrosia tempts your wicked tongue.
Come to the palace at moonrise. My table will be set, the stars politely scattered above us, +
glistening with honeyed glaze and stuffed with wild garlic, thorn apples, and faintly glowing dreamberries.
Beside it, delicate finger pastries filled with goat cheese, arranged in a spiral that echoed a sigil of binding as a small joke between them and lastly +
"Perfect." he murmured, and the room seemed to agree. The flames danced a little higher in approval.
The food had been prepared by no mortal hand Valerian seen to that years of experience had granted him a chief's touch as he set the table.
First, a golden roast pheasant, skin +
