Private Rainspire Return

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: The Rainspire, Parrlay, Naboo
Tags: Thessaly Veruna

Aurelian Veruna stepped back into Parrlay as though he had never left it. The Rainspire rose above him, its spires catching the stormlight that had given it its name, and for the first time since Theed had placed a crown upon his brow, he felt the weight of home press against his shoulders. Not unwelcome, not entirely... just heavy with the scent of obligation.

Inside, the halls buzzed with the muted hum of servants rushing to catch up with his sudden arrival. Aurelian's smile, dangerous and bright, carved through the stillness as he dismissed them with a wave. He had no patience for ceremony today.

Tona, his aide, kept pace beside him, a bundle of parchment tucked under her arm. "The company from Farstine is already buying up contracts, Your Grace. They're undercutting us. If you wait another week, the supply lines will belong to them."

Aurelian only half-listened, his amber eyes taking in the chamber where his cousin, Calers Veruna, waited slouched at the long table. Calers rose, stiff and reluctant, bowing a touch too shallow for a man addressing his king.

"Cousin," Aurelian said, the word wrapped in silk and thorns. "I leave you a House with dominion over every grain sack in Parrlay. I return to find strangers from Farstine feasting at our table."

Calers bristled, voice rough with offense. "It's not so simple, Aurelian. Times change. Their offers are impossible to match without bleeding us dry. You'd know that if you spent less time in Theed playing monarch and more time here."

The smile sharpened. Aurelian leaned forward, palms braced on the table, his presence filling the chamber with heat and shadow. "And you'd know, Cousin, that I don't play at anything. Not Theed. Not Parrlay. Not legacy." His gaze flicked over the scattered contracts. "House Veruna does not surrender its throne to grain merchants with fat purses. If you've grown too weary to defend it, I'll remind them, and you, why the name still carries weight."

For a long moment, cousin and king locked eyes, the air thick with unspoken challenge. Calers looked away first.

​

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

Her mourning attire had been cast aside days earlier. Instead, she wore a garment cut to her shape, seamless in appearance, and shimmering with diamond like appearance. The threads seemed to change colour as she turned, walked and moved between light sources.

Besides, of course, her fascinating endeavour with Ravion Corvalis , Thessaly had barely left their family home, instead she had had people come to her. Another caller had been dismissed, taking with them the instructions she had been carefully laying out. And now, she attended to the raised voices.

Tall wine-filled flute in hand, Thessaly walked into the room with languid grace, and did not sit on the chaise lounge, rather draped herself across it as if she were it's greatest asset.

"Aurelian. Temper yourself. We cannot afford to squander more of our family, now can we?"she said, before sipping her wine. She winced. A foul vintage. Someone would be chastised.

Her words were a subtle indication as to her suspicions about her father. She had still been forbidden to see him. Which meant, he was either dead or soon to be so. She would not put it past Aurelian to starve the man, and watch his slowly emaciating husk rot away. Such a Veruna thing to do.

"Calers. Leave us," she said with a dismissive flick of her fingers. Their cousin hesitated. Her eyes narrowed. And he left quickly, non-existant tail tucked between his legs.

Her eyes closed and she leaned back on the headrest of the chaise lounge. Her chin lifted, and her heck of ivory stretched as she sighed. It was a show of power. A throat so easily cut laid bare with no fear.

"Tell me brother...what has the King stomping his feet like a little boy, today?" She said, sipping the wine again with a wrinkling of her nose.

Aurelian Veruna​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: The Rainspire, Parrlay, Naboo
Tags: Thessaly Veruna

Aurelian didn't turn when Thessaly's voice cut through the chamber. It was low, velvet, and held her usual hint of venom. He watched her lounge across the chaise as if the Rainspire had been built just for her comfort. Calers' retreating steps still echoed when the door slammed shut, leaving only the two of them in the charged air.

His amber eyes, restless and alive with a heat that could ignite or consume, fixed on her. He straightened, his shoulders drawing back beneath his cloak. Every line of him spoke of authority. He was no longer the boy she'd known, no longer the shadow in her wake. Aurelian Veruna was the axis upon which this house turned, and he stood as undeniable proof of it.

With measured steps, he crossed the chamber, his boots thudding softly against the marble. His dangerous smile flickered as he stopped before her. He took in the shimmer of her diamond-threaded gown, the careless arch of her neck, and the theatrics of her indulgence, then let out a faint, humorless laugh.

"How quaint," he said. "I see the ashes of mourning have already been brushed clean. Your late husband is barely cool in the grave, yet you drape yourself in gems and dismiss cousins as if they were unruly servants." His gaze narrowed, studying her as though she were an unwelcome stain upon his house's stone. "I'd hoped the estate was large enough that we might avoid each other, sister. But it seems you've found nothing better to do than haunt these halls and meddle in business that doesn't belong to you."

He loomed above her, the very image of Veruna strength. The mischief in his veins coiled beneath the crown upon his brow, restrained yet restless. His voice dropped lower, a subtle command veiled in nonchalance.

"This is official Veruna business. It's nothing of note for you. These are the affairs of kings and houses, not idle widows with too much wine in their veins. Tell me, Thessaly, how long do you intend to grace us with your presence? Surely your late husband's estate needs tending. Or do you prefer to sprawl here, plaguing my house with your boredom?"

​

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

She didn't open her eyes. Nor did she respond. Instead, her whole body seemed to settle into her comfortable rest.

She sipped the wine again. Her nose wrinkled. This time she set the glass down on the floor, beside the chaise. Her finger rounded the rim of the glass, letting out a high pitched whine.

"Ah. A sound more palatable than your voice."

Still, she did not open her eyes. Letting the moment, the refusal to abide by his cadence resonate.

"I grieved my marriage every day of its miserable reality," she said finally, lips curling in disdain, "he was a vile, hedonist of a man. And I am now free of his loathsome touch...forever."

She knew that he had known her mourning was merely mockery of the format. Despite his oddities, she trusted him to be wise enough to understand that much.

Finally, she opened her eyes, tilting her chin just enough to lock eyes with Aurelian. She smiled, but only barely. There was something in him that she actually respected. A glimmer of value. Bah, likely to be snuffed out by that filthy Abrantes girl.

"I am as much Veruna as you are, little King," she said, pursing her lips in a mockery of contemplation, "and it is best you make use of me, rather than cast me aside. You should know better than all...Veruna's make the worst of enemies."

Aurelian Veruna

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: The Rainspire, Parrlay, Naboo
Tags: Thessaly Veruna

Aurelian's smirk lingered, then he let out a sharp exhale, a sound somewhere between amusement and derision. With ease, he sank into the couch opposite of her. He seemed to lounge, yet his posture held no real relaxation. His amber eyes fixed on Thessaly, noting the subtle curl of her smile, the underlying venom clinging to her every small movement. The corner of his mouth twitched before he let out a low, humorless laugh, sharp with mockery.

"Sounds to me as though you and your dearly departed were made for one another," he said at last. "Vile, you say? Hedonist? Loathsome?" His gaze sharpened, a dangerous brightness lighting his eyes. "Strange, sister. Every word you spoke was as fine a reflection of yourself as any mirror in this palace." He leaned back, stretching one arm along the couch, his eyes still burning into her, as if he could strip away her diamonds and silks to find whatever raw iron she believed she concealed. "After all, don't we all attract what we are? You two deserved each other."

With a deliberate turn of his head, Aurelian glanced away, out through the wide windows. For a moment, his features softened in profile, revealing a calculated rather than gentle expression. He let her voice fill the chamber, her words about her Veruna blood fading into his ears like static. Veruna as much as him? The thought tightened the corners of his mouth. She had been gone, years vanished into the decadence of another man's house, another name's wealth. She returned only now, when Naboo gleamed brighter under his crown. And yet, he could not deny the kernel of truth that their name bound them both, whether he liked it or not.

He turned back, his dangerous smile blooming once more, slow and deliberate. "Perhaps," he admitted, the word soft but threaded with steel.

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial tone. "Maybe another marriage would do well. Surely now, as King, I can draw a wealthier suitor for you. Nobles would pay handsomely to have Veruna blood woven into their line. Wealthy merchants, desperate governors; I'm certain we could even find someone with your taste for cruelty, if that's what keeps you entertained." He paused, savoring the sting before letting the knife slide in deeper. "It doesn't matter to me who takes you, sister. As long as it keeps your schemes far from Naboo. Far from me."

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