Phoebe Nightlingale

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

For unknown reasons, Phoebe`s heart warmed at his words, the title of authority not sounding as heavy or forced as it usually did when he spoke it. It hadn`t been in a giddy way, far from it; it was akin to a verbal reassurance that this moment was not fleeting, that when the sun rose the next day all would be the same. She noticed the way he had paused when he turned towards the door of his chambers, her smile remaining on her delicate features. It seemed as if he was just as hesitant as she was to let the night come to a conclusion, but she knew she had nothing to fret over. Her heart and mind were telling her that there was simply no way this moment would end, even if they both retired to their rooms. The emotions and memories would remain, even if something went awry and they would always have those to cling onto. She remained where she was until he faded from her vision, her smile fading into a more neutral expression. The only times she felt somewhat blissful and truly like herself were when Rhys was around, so it was not surprising her demeanor changed almost immediately.

Another sigh slipped past her lips as she turned on her heels and headed towards the wing that her and the other nobles resided, sending a silent prayer to the gods above that General Atius would be asleep or simply absent for the time being. The last thing she wanted was to encounter him- to find herself face-to-face with that wolfish grin and predatory glint in his eyes- and be unable to fend him off like she had at the stables that morning. The memory of it all was still fresh, but Rhys` words resonated deep within her. She would be alright and she would survive whatever Atius threw at her, no matter what. Her footsteps echoed throughout the dark, eerie halls of the palace as she moved, hesitating and pausing whenever she heard so much as a creak from behind or in front of her; she had never been so paranoid before.. but she knew it was Atius to blame; it was always him, even if her parents were arguably as terrible as he was.

In the nick of time, Phoebe slid into her room and locked the door behind her, sighing in relief. Mere moments after, she had heard the voices of other nobles- presumably- taking a late stroll through the halls. She walked over to her wardrobe to select something to wear to bed prior to heading to the bathroom that was connected to her chambers. It was a rather quick shower that she took, wanting to simply curl up in bed and gain some rest due to her current exhausted state; Rhys` absence had been a reminder of just how tired she really was. The steam from the warm water wafted throough the air as she got out, changing her attire and preparing for a night of rest, even if she feared that her insomnia would plague her once again. It was truly a shame that someone as kind and compassionate as her always suffered in silence, in isolation.. It was the way Phoebe preferred, however. Besides, she doubted her parents or anyone other than Rhys would show the tiniest bit of concern for her wellbeing.

Phoebe finished her business in the bathroom before she closed the door behind her, flicking the lights off and plopping down on the silken sheets of her bed. She found herself wandering if the servants had the same luxury.. Everyone deserved a warm, comfortable bed to return to after a long day. A frown shifted onto her face as she realized they probably didn`t have such comfortable bedding her blankets; maybe she could fix that one day. She eventually closed her eyes, curling up beneath the sheets and clutching a pillow to her chest. Not a sound left her as she slipped into a peaceful slumber, her mind fixated on the memories she shared with Rhys. That was the only thing that lulled her into sleep.. it was a little heartwarming, to be honest. Unlike the days prior, Phoebe slept in for quite a while. Her exhaustion and drained energy had finally caught up to her, so it was no surprise she remained asleep and in complete silence and tranquility for a little longer than usual.

Rhys was peering up at the sun, zoned out and not paying too much attention. It was another hot day, and he was taking a short break, sitting under the shade of a willow tree, arms propped on his knees. He was thinking about the past couple days and such, contemplating his newfound relationship with Phoebe and what it would mean. Deciding the best plan of action in murdering Atius without anyone knowing it was him. Well, he kind of wished that was possible, but it wasn't really. He couldn't just go around killing the people that threatened her... but he very much hated the way the guy looked at her. Like she was nothing more than a mere toy in his grand old game.

.

He turned his head slightly as he heard footsteps, and a moment later, the person he had been scheming about rounded the corner. General Atius. He immediately stood, not needing to draw attention by being disrespectful. He assumed the man would walk right past, but no- they stopped in front of him, disapproving look of disgust plastered on their face. "You must be Rhys." Atius stated flatly, his tone dripping with unhappiness. The man let his eyes flick up and down the taller Rhys before landing on his shoulder. "I hear you got injured yesterday. Good for you to protect the royals." Their tone was mocking, not complimenting. Rhys didn't respond, eyes dark and stormy. "Fine. Enough with the games. I want you to stay the hell away from Phoebe. She's mine." Atius snarled, stepping closer, lips twisted into something that resembled the baring of teeth. Rhys was almost surprised by this sudden outburst, but besides the darkening of his eyes, he didn't change in demeanor. "I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about, sir. I don't see the princess much other than to get my orders." He stated in a level manner, looking slightly down at Atius, who's eyes glowed with hate. "You're playing a dangerous game, servant." Atius sneered. "The next time I feel you're getting too close... let's just say I'll make sure you know she's mine." Atius growled before stepping back and striding away.

.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Rhys' jaw tightened considerably and his eyes grew cold with anger. He hissed out a low breath, a fist clenching as he turned back to his work. He would've been fine if the man threatened him, but that was openly threatening Phoebe. Something had to be done. His mind told him he needed to just remove himself from her life. He couldn't have made that much of an imprint in the two days something had changed. However, his blackened heart refused to accept that he could be bullied into giving up the one thing that had made him happy as of lately. No. He was not going to let that happen.

.

He worked, silently fuming, until he could hear the castle was awake... servants bustled through the halls right outside the garden, horses neighed, a royal strode past towards the Stables. His mind was focused solely on Phoebe. When would she awake? Was she just sleeping in, or did something happen? Did Atius get to her already? These thoughts plagued his mind for as long as the task took, and then some.

.

The only thing Rhys had to do left in the garden was the biggest task yet.. paint the fence. His mind couldn't take this for much longer, though. He needed to see Phoebe. He needed to see if she was okay, or hiding something, or what. He could read her if he could just see her. Frustration broiled beneath his skin as he picked up the brush and started the slow, Methodical work, Biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood as he distracted himself from his looming thoughts. Every swipe of the brush was a little bit closer to her demise. What could he do about this problem. About Atius. The man flat out threatened her. Rhys wasn't going to let that go.. he wasn't going to let her get hurt because of him. He wasn't going to back away, either. One way or another, this would be resolved. Even if it ended in him leaving.

.

It must've been around noon, because the gardens grew quieter as the servants left to go eat their small midday meal. He didn't leave, however. No, he was in the middle of a job and would enjoy the peace and quiet. He had managed to keep servants away from his quarter of the garden, but they annoyingly didn't leave entirely, so he had to deal with their noise the whole morning. Now only the chirping of birds interrupted his thoughts. Better than another royal, he supposed. He didn't think he could survive holding his temper if another royal approached him, not that they should.

Phoebe Nightlingale

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It was early in the afternoon when Phoebe finally stirred from her tranquil slumber, stretching beneath the sheets and allowing herself to yawn. Her weary eyes darted around the familiar surroundings of her room before she shifted to sit up. She lifted her hands to rub at her eyes in a futile attempt to scare off the limgering exhaustion that refused to fully go aware. For the briefest of moments, she felt grateful for the long rest she had gotten; it was a nice break from the nightmares and unending anxiety that typically plagued her every single night. Phoebe knew it would be a long time before she slept so peacefully once again, so she took a moment to bask in it before she shuffled off of her bed and stood up. She prepared for the day rather quickly since she figured her parents and maybe even Morana were wondering where she was. It was more common for her to be the first to awaken and go downstairs, which was understandable given her insomnia.

Phoebe exited her chambers and headed down the hall, taking a moment to greet the servants that were working and tending to the palace`s interior. Even if the architecture looked brand new and somewhat modern, everyone knew the palace was one of- if not the most- ancient buildings in the country. Of course, it was no surprise since it was quite literally the palace itself. Phoebe kept a steady, calm pace as she wandered through the halls, taking a brief moment to snatch an apple from a rack that was located near the kitchen. She refused to eat in the dining hall as she always did; the last thing she wanted was to deal with any member of her family.. and also General Atius, for obvious reasons. As she walked, her mind wandered.. lingering on the twisted past she shared with the General. Atius was a cruel, dangerous man that truly resembled a predator, someone that did whatever he could to get what he wanted.

The earliest memory she had of General Atius was when they were both kids, Atius being only two or three years older than she was; she didn`t care enough to bother remembering their age gap. The two of them had been friends back them, Atius being nothing more than an innocent, little boy that was oblivious to what his father would force him to endure. In a twisted way, the General had the exact same malicious upbringing as she had, but he had allowed it to shape him; he allowed his parents to turn him into the aggressive and vicious man he was today. Phoebe, on the contrary, still rebelled, albeit quietly, and never once strayed from her core beliefs. A part of her twisted at the mere possibility of her turning into some kind of monster like he had.. It made her feel sick.

The sound of approaching, quick footsteps interrupted her thoughts, making her pause and turn around. Her gaze softened as she saw some kids- nobles, she presumed due to their attire- chasing each other through the hall and past her into the garden. If she had not been so distracted, perhaps she would have warned them that the floor tended to be slippery at this time of day; the servants cleaned the floors rather consistently. A sigh escaped her as she resumed walking, heading out into the gardens herself. For some reason, it was rather busy out there. Nature still resonated beautifly, displaying all its grandeur despite the chatting and laughter that occassionally erupted. Much to her dismay, she realized that there was a plethora of nobles entering and departing through the main gates.. There had to be a reason- a major one- for all of this. Her father prided on the way the palace was always quite and peaceful, but this.. this was chaotic and far too loud for her taste.

``There`s my daughter,`` Serene Nightlingale`s voice sounded from her right, causing Phoebe to immediately fabricate a facade. She turned to look at her mother, bowing slightly before she offered her a smile that was almost obviously faked. Serene reached for Phoebe`s hands and held them, caressing her knuckles with her thumbs. ``You slept in for quite a while.. Very unusual for you, darling.``

``I was merely more tired than usual. Besides, the palace is very crowded and loud. It is hard to fall asleep,`` Phoebe replied as she looked past her mother`s shoulders. She could see General Atius and her father in the distance, conversing with nobles and.. soldiers. A frown shifted onto her face at the thought; she did not understand why they needed soldiers here at the palace. ``Why is it so busy?``

``I`m not quite sure,`` Serene answered honestly, frowning a little to look over at her husband and the building number of people within the castle walls. She let go of Phoebe`s hands and, for a moment, looked almost guilty. ``Your father mentioned it was something the General wanted, but.. no one knows what goes on in his head. Perhaps its a safety precaution and we`re overthinking.``

Phoebe watched as her mother offered her a brief wave of departure before she fully turned to return to her husband. The princess sighed heavily and intertwined her fingers, biting her lip slightly. She had no idea what was going on, but it wasn`t anything good. At the same time, however, maybe all of these people were resting for the night and would be on there way in the morning. She could only hope that was the case.

Rhys' gaze flitted to the royals that seemed to roam around the garden at will, numbering so many more than normal. He glimpsed the king and Atius conversing out of the corner of his eye, as well. Something was wrong- or happening, at least. Mistrust and wariness flickered across his vision as he returned to his painting, more than a little worried. This could not be good... specifically because it involved Atius. Why were there so many royals here? What event was happening that he did not hear about? A grumble of unease escaped as he finished the second to last post.

.

As he worked, his gaze lifted at a familiar voice. It was faint, but there. His eyes searched the garden for a moment before landing on the princess and the queen, musing in low tones. They both looked a bit troubled, and Phoebe definitely looked a little uptight. With all of these people, he didn't want to risk walking over there to talk to her, so he quelled his desires. Instead, he watched her carefully for a minute or two, studying her expression and the slight worries in her brow. Even from a ways away, he could see the furrow just above the bridge of her nose. After a moment, he glanced back at the fence and continued his work, knees aching from kneeling so long to get the lower parts.

.

He finished the fence a little while later, standing, his pants, hands, and forearms splotched with paint. Some paint speckled his shirt as well. He picked up the rest of the paint and the brush and started moving back to the shed before hearing a low gasp. He turned back to see a royal had just leaned against the fence, wrecking his paint job- and their expensive clothes. They whipped to him with an accusing gaze, anger sparking in their eyes. "You- how dare you not tell me the fence was wet!" The man bellowed. Rhys sighed lowly and tried not to explode. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't see you walking up." He mused lowly. "Don't make excuses! I want you punished for this!" The man spluttered before stumbling off to find the king. Rhys glared at their back with enough force to murder someone, forcefully yanking the can back and stalking to the fence, irritation on his own face. Of course he had to fix others mistakes and get punished for it. That's how his entire life went. He wasn't looking forward to the king approaching him- the man was likely looking for a reason to be mad at him.

Phoebe Nightlingale

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Phoebe remained where she was for quite a while, simply basking in the rays of sunlight and taking a moment to herself. She watched the gathering of nobles that were a couple of feet away, silently praying none of them bothered enough to come and greet her. Even if she was bubbly and enjoyed talking, to an extent, of course, she could care less about professional and blatantly fake conversations; it was how nobles like her worked.. they were secretive, speaking in riddles and rhymes that even she seemed to fail to detect rather often. A frown shifted onto her face when she heard yelling originating from behind her, turning on her heel. The frown only deepened when she saw Rhys clearly in the progress of painting a fence while a royal decided to sit on it. If only the royal had eyes.. maybe he would have noticed the fence was being worked on. The rather snide thought vanished immediately from her head, almost as if she couldn`t believe she had thought it in the first place.

The princess watched in silence as the royal stood and barged over to her father, a curse on the verge of slipping on her tongue. She did not want her father to get involved, especially when he was known for being cruel; she knew it firsthand, but at least he never harmed a servant the same way he did to her. A sense of foreboding and unease washed over her when the royal started heading back with her father in tow.. and Atius. She knew this was not gonna end well whatsoever and she wanted to intervene somehow. Of course, she knew it would be strange and ridiculous if she did, especially if she even tried to defend Rhys and claim he shouldn`t have to worry about idiots not using their critical thinking skills. Before she could think further, the trio walked past her and she did not miss the way Atius stared at her; it was cocky, threatening almost.. She didn`t like it at all.

Phoebe took in a deep breath before she decided to follow after them, mostly out of worry and concern for her friend. She had no plans to intervene unless it was absolutely necessary; she wasn`t a fool and she didn`t want to be punished as well. The thought was selfish and she knew it, but she also knew that, if something terrible happened, she would step in regardless. Phoebe refused to stand there and watch if her father or even Atius tried to lay a hand on Rhys. She wouldn`t even mind if she was punished as well, as long as he remained unharmed. Besides, she was already used to the mistreatment from her father, so how much damage could one more punishment truly do from him? Not a word left her as she stood to the side, acting like a quiet observer. If anyone asked why she was standing there and had taken interest, she could easily say she was curious.. nothing more and nothing less.

Rhys was almost done patching up the fence when he heard footsteps behind him. And, to be honest, the irritated breathing of the idiot who looked like they painted themselves. Which they kind of did. He sucked in a slow breath before slowly turning around, face is voice was flat and slightly distasteful, but that was well hidden. He watched them with his dark gaze, eyes narrowing a twitch at the royal that was glaring at him.

.

The king scowled at him while Atius stood in the back, looking violently triumphant. "You didn't warn Gianu that the fence was wet. I know how much you love your trips outside the castle... so for the next month, I don't want you to step foot out of the grounds. You can only be in the garden if you're working. Along with that, I want you to go to each royals door and ask if they need anything, up until they leave. I hope you enjoy waiting on your masters hand and foot, servant." The king spat out the last word like a curse. Rhys' gaze glinted slightly as he lifted his head, standing taller above them. "I agree with your rulings and sincerely apologize for my faults." He stated haltingly, the back of his neck prickling with anger. He knew the king was specifically tailoring his punishment to his hate of serving royals directly. Naturally. "I'll be watching you. I'd suggest you behave." The king all but sneered before turning away and leaving. Atius cast a smug smirk at him before following. Lastly, the royal had the gall to spit on his feet before sauntering away. Rhys didn't spare them a second glance as he turned back to the fence, shoulder throbbing, feeling stiff. He stared at the fence as he smoothed the last bit of paint over.

.

A glance to the side told him that all the royals had exited the garden, probably to go to some meeting. He decided that he'd better get out of the garden before he got backhanded for lingering. He dropped the paint can and the paint brush in the shed and stalked inside, shoulders slightly hunched. He didn't spare Phoebe a glance yet, as he didn't want the royals to see, but he paused at the door and his gaze flitted to her for a half second before he went inside. He still had to fix a door, and now he was going to be stuck inside for the next month. Irritation prickled his skin, making him feel uncomfortable, like bugs were crawling under his clothes. He paused inside the hallway and leaned against the wall, a low grumble rumbling out of his throat. His wound definitely needed re-dressing, and he was tired from his lack of sleep.

.

After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, Rhys was content to rest there for a while. He wanted to talk to Phoebe, but he didn't know if that was safe right now. The next month was going to be absolute torture, and he wouldn't even be able to talk to her throughout it. Not only could he not escape to the woods, he'd have to serve the royals and stay out of the gardens. His fingers twitched with fury at the mere thought. For other servants it wouldn't be that bad, but obviously the king had been watching him. Great. His relationship with Phoebe had already drawn enough attention to him to be a hazard.

Phoebe Nightlingale

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The scene that unfolded before her made her heart strain in her chest, words on the precipce of escaping her mouth. It was just another cruel reminder that the servants within the palace walls were regarded as nothing but livestock, something that does not deserve consideration and sympathy since their one purpose was to serve and obey. For centuries, that was how it had worked within the Nightlingale Palace and Phoebe despised it even more than she loathed her own father, which spoke volumes considering all of the circumstances. She hated the way her father had revoked Rhys` ability to leave the grounds and to go off into the solitary woods that she knew he enjoyed; Phoebe hadn`t missed the way he seemed to be one with nature, preferring to be outside than inside the dark walls of the castle. This entire situation was unfair, especially since any decently intelligent human would have been able to put the pieces together and presume the fence was still drying from the wet paint. It didn`t necessarily anger her, but it definitely was upsetting her. For some reason, the gardens suddenly felt suffocating as realization dawned upon her: it would be nearly impossible to talk with Rhys until his punishment was over.

Phoebe didn`t say anything as the trio turned to take their leave, a brief frown shifting on her face at the sight of the royal spitting on the ground near Rhys. She didn`t- couldn`t- understand why there was such a huge difference between a servant and royal, why one must be mistreated and the other held to a high standard due to the power they wielded. Surely they knew that nearly every royal was once a servant? A mere commoner? Royalty never existed centuries ago until the family itself emerged from poverty, manpulaiting others into giving them everything they desired. At least, that was what happened with her family. Phoebe dared not remind her father, so she kept her mouth sealed as she looked back over at Rhys. She felt guilty for what they had done to him, even if it could have been worse and it wasn`t necessarily her fault.. but it wasn`t Rhys` fault either. A heavy, exhausted sigh left her as she turned on her heels, catching the way he had glanced at her briefly. It made her feel a little better, but nothing would change the fact that she had stood by and let it all play out.

The silence was foreboding as Phoebe walked back into the palace itself, cringing inwardly at how many servants were up and about. She could tell most of them were being overworked, forced to tend to more royals than they were probably used to. It was tearing her apart slowly, especially whenever she saw a mere child tending to someone; at the very least, children deserved their freedom and carefree nature.. right? She shook her head dismissively and kept walking through the halls, her gaze fixated on whatever was ahead. Phoebe was only just realizing how awful the punishment truly was, perhaps more so for her than him even if it was not meant for her directly. She wouldn`t be able to see him, let alone talk to him without risking both their lives. Her father had said he would keep a close eye on him and the look on Atius` face had told her all she needed to know: the General was plotting something, whether it be involving her or Rhys, maybe even both. She shook the thought away and kept going onward, deciding impulsively that she would head to the library to distract herself with a book.

The mere possibility of General Atius wanting her within her grasp once again made her feel sick to her stomach. She didn`t want anything to do with that man, even a few words was enough to make her uneasy and hesitant. There was just something about the way he carried himself and looked at her that told her that she was nothing but prey in his eyes, something he could easily snatch away if he used just the right words and did the littlest of things to manipulate her parents. She knew the next month would be terrible, but she hoped that there was a chance- even a small one- that she would see Rhys again soon. All she had ever wanted was an equal, a friend, but now she had lost him due to her selfish, egotistical father that refused to be understanding.

The next 3 days were horrible, to be completely honest. Rhys' very soul ached for the cool release of the lake, his skin wanted sun, and his brain begged him to never speak to another royal again. He had, foolishly, requested every job in the gardens he could. They were all denied, and to make things better, he got more jobs inside and less in the garden. His eyes hurt from not being in light for so long and he felt like he was slowly dying inside. So this was real torture, apparently. Not only did every fiber of his being cry for sun not filtered through windows, but he also was feeling the effects of being hopelessly lonely. He had numbed those feelings over years of not speaking to people, but apparently two days with Phoebe was enough to unravel him. Now he wanted to see her, see if she was still okay, and he couldn't. It was killing him. Lastly, he was humiliated daily by having to stalk up to the royals very rooms and ask if they needed anything. Worst of all... his mind kept reminding him that this was only the third day of a month of torture.

.

He was making his rounds through the castle late in the afternoon, begrudgingly asking each royal what they needed and going to get it. Every one of them wanted something- whether it be a cup of water or something fixed or for him to tend to their horse. It was always something. So, with the amount of royals, naturally it took him through the servant supper hour to finally finish. He was in a despicable mood, and he still hadn't fixed that damn door in a barely used section of the castle.

.

He grabbed his tools and stalked the back way through the dark halls, giving off a 'if you come near me I will happily rip your voice box out' vibe. When he did arrive at the secluded part of the castle, he begun his search for the door. Naturally, the royal that pointed it out didn't give him any details as to where the hell it was, so he had to look for it throughout the whole west wing of the castle. It took him nearly half an hour to find the particular door, and when he did, he saw that it merely needed its hinges to be oiled. Anger that had been slowly building up finally spilled out slightly as he dropped the tool kit and slammed his fist into the door. Maybe he should give it a reason to be fixed. Naturally, the wood didn't move- or splinter- or give any sign that he had just hit it. This only fueled his pent up fury as he cradled his other hand to his chest, not wanting to injure his shoulder as he rained blow after blow down on the door. The steady oak wood held, but his hand did not. By the time he was done, his skin was in ribbons, knuckles oozing blood. Pain laced through his arm, but it did nothing to distract him. He was stuck, hopelessly stuck in this God forsaken castle, a servant to the people he hated, unable to leave without getting killed. The one person that might understand was kept away from him, and the whole situation seemed completely hopeless.

.

After his mini temper tantrum, he sank against the wall slightly, staring at the ceiling. If one thing could go right for once... that would be nice. Even so small as he was granted a singular task in the gardens. Even if it only took a couple minutes. He didn't care. He felt like he was being squeezed by the walls. They threatened to crush him, taunting him for not being able to get out. And just like that, his terrible day managed to get worse as his claustrophobia kicked in full time. Rhys had trained himself to fight his fear, his father had put him in situations so that he could get over it, and yet it still came back. Haunted him even now. He didn't want to blink for worry that when he opened his eyes, the walls would truly be closer. So he glared at the stone, refusing to let it be the thing that sent him spiraling. No, he was going to regain his wits, 'fix' the door, which didn't really need to be fixed, and that would be the end of his tasks. Then he could pace in his room and hide from the world. Maybe even find a way to sneak out at night. Moonlight was just as good as sun, if only his skin could soak up some real light.

Phoebe Nightlingale

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The three days that had passed had been nothing but miserable for Phoebe. She found herself constantly swarmed by royals and persistently questioned about whether or not she was open to suitors and other political aspects. It drained her rather quickly, her mind running rampant as she struggled to comprehend and even form answers to all their insistent, uncaring questions. She knew they could tell that she was becoming more and more frustrated and disturbed, so she found herself wondering if they were just waiting for her resolve and facade to crack and shatter into pieces. If that were the case, she wouldn`t be surprised. Regardless, it was the questions of suitors that gained most of her attention. She was old enough to have one, so much so it truly was surprising she hadn`t even tried looking for one yet. Her answers to their questions had been rather blunt and to the point, however: her father wanted to keep his power for as long as he could, so if she were to be wed.. it would be a threat. It was uncommon knowledge that the Nightlingale Family worked differently when it came to inheriting the throne. One`s father would keep it until he passed, whether it be from natural causes or literal murder; it was harsh and cruel, but it was how it worked. In order to rule, one must be willing to kill.

Phoebe had spent the entire day entertaining royals, which included her parents. She did not enjoy any second of it, so she took advantage of the opportunity to depart as soon as she saw it. Her brows were furrowed as she sped through the corridors, her pace quicker than it usually was since she needed a breather.. desperately. The gardens had become the one place she frequented every night since she had been tormented by insomnia and worry ever since Rhys` punishment started. She opened the door and headed down the steps into the soft grass, basking in the cold late afternoon air. The sun was already setting, the view outside abolustely breathtaking. The princess took a moment to admire the sight, listening to the birdsong and watching as little critters scurried to and fro. The large fountain that was surrounded by hedges in the center of the garden was flowing steadily, stray water spraying onto the edges of the marble that kept it flooding. She walked towards the fountain and sat down on its edge, gently trailing her fingers through the cool water.

``You always come here when you`re toubled, Princess,`` General Atius` voice rang through the former silence of the garden, his footsteps heavy as he approached her. Phoebe inwardly cursed, her eyes lifting as she looked over at him. He was wearing his official clothing, which included her father`s distasteful emblem. She dared not speak anything as the General sat a few feet away on the fountain as well, his gaze fixated on her as if she were something he could take then and there. It made her uneasy, but she knew she had to maintain her composure or else things would go south quickly.

``I`m not troubled. I simply come here often,`` Phoebe replied quietly, her voice devoid of the discomfort and uncertainty she was truly feeling at that moment. She continued to watch him as their interaction slowly unfolded, the only comfort she had being the birds that still echoed their melodic songs into sky. For some reason, she felt the littlest bit safe with Atius, even with that predatory stance and glimmer in his eyes; it was probably the fact that she clung to the memory of him being nothing more than an innocent little boy, someone that was once her friend. ``I will admit it is busier here than it usually is. I don`t like the chaos.``

``The chaos is a shame,`` Atius` voice wasn`t as harsh as it always was, but she knew better. Phoebe could tell he was clinging onto any sign or indication that she was falling into whatever trap or set-up this was, but she wouldn`t give in.. ever. Atius sighed heavily as he leaned back a little, his dark eyes looking up into the sky above them. He didn`t say anything for a long while, seemingly contemplating his words. ``The servants here don`t seem to behave themselves as much as they used to.``

``It`s busy, so its safe to presume some may merely be overwhelmed,`` her voice was quiet, but honest. Her words were not necessarily meant to defend any of them, but it was a logical reason. If she had been a servant with this amount of royals to tend to, she would have lost her mind and her patience in less than twenty-four hours. Of course, she had a feeling he was trying to get her to mention Rhys in one way or another, but she wouldn`t give him the satisfaction. She would make him think that the servant meant nothing to her when it wasn`t true whatsoever; then again, she was unaware of what Atius already knew.. or what he thought he knew.