Negroni Sbagliato

oh to be loved is not a crime

Alison Winter was the sort of woman who enjoyed the finer things in life. Luxurious gowns made from the finest silks, combined with sparkling jewellery and glittering make-up. But also: beautiful furniture and well-made art. And, of course, good food and good wine. God, how she appreciated a good wine. She could get carried a way a bit, sometimes, at social functions when the wine was particularly tasteful, becoming even more outgoing than she already was. Pitifully, tonight was not a night for festivities, but did that mean she couldn't enjoy herself? No. A rare night off could also mean some good-old quality time. She had her paints out, candles lit and wine poured.

Alison was a fast painter, but also a fast drinker. So by the time she had finished her first painting of the night -- merely a rough composition, nothing too detailed -- she had become quite tipsy. Creativity and alcohol flowed together so beautifully. She leaned back to look at her work, quite satisfied with it. If she was being honest, this deserved to be seen by a second pair of eyes. But she didn't quite feel like wandering all throughout the Winter manor, having already taken out her braids and changed into some more comfortable attire. Wasn't her guard stationed right outside her door? Of course he was. It was a real pain sometimes, being the heiress, but for the first time ever she might actually have use of her new guard. She poked her head outside the door, making eye contact with the young man. "Come inside." she told him, her cheeks a little flushed from the wine. Who knows, maybe deep inside he had a proper art critic hiding.

painting

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

It was a quiet evening within the Winter castle as the guard silently guarded the door to the Heiress' chambers. She wasn't used to an almost spine chilling silence like this. There never had been room for a moment of silence within her old life. The bustling streets of the lower ring did not sleep. Still, she probably could get used to this. It was a lot more pleasant than riding those dangerous beasts into the forest for fun, to say the least. While her life had changed drastically, it started to feel more natural each day. Not better, or worse, just.. ordinary.

Her internal monologue was soon to be disturbed by a voice that also had grown to be familiar. Appearing within the doorframe stood the Heiress, who strangely enough, decided to invite her in. Her voice didn't sound as sharp as usual. The guarded turned around to face her with a mixed expression of confusing and, perhaps, a small hint of worry. "Is something the matter, your Grace?" Better to make sure before barging into her chambers. Was she even supposed to?

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

Of course he had been standing there, doing nothing. Granted, it was good that he didn't have anything to do, but it did make her wonder whether he would be doing more if there ever was any real danger. She supposed his presence would become useful soon enough, though. That was, if he would ever listen to what she said. She looked incredulously at him as he asked whether something was the matter. It wasn't like she enjoyed chit-chatting with him so much, was it? "You ask too many questions, Nyx." the blonde woman answered. She turned back around, leaving the door open behind her. Honestly, if he needed more instructions at that point she would just fire him herself then and there, consequences be damned.

"So," she continued, assuming he was smart enough to follow her inside, "what do you think of this?" She motioned towards the painting, before taking another sip of her wine and turning back around to face him, swaying to the side just the slightest. Her gaze was focused on his face, trying to decipher his thoughts before he could think of an answer that she would want to hear. It wasn't about what she wanted, after all, but about what he thought. Although he better thought the painting was amazing.

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

Perhaps the quite boring afternoon would come to an end, assuming that the Heiress needed her assistance for something other than standing guard at the door. Nyx furrowed her brows at her remark, quietly following the blonde through the door she seemed to have purposely left open. Even though invited inside by the blonde herself, she made the consious descision to close the door behind her. You know, just to make sure. The Duke would have her head if rumors managed to spread itself throughout the castle, and she didn't go through all of the trouble of attaining this job for this pretty face to land on a spike.

The Heiress seemed.. different. As she eyed the glass of wine within her hand, it wasn't hard to guess the reason behind her sudden change of behavior. Her lips curled into a faint smirk. No matter someone's rank or status, some things simply didn't change. Apparantly, being the Heiress to this country didn't grant you immunity to some of the worldly pleasures.

The following question caught her a little off-guard as her gaze sought out the painting in question. That was.. a painting. A nice painting, though, she had to admit, but why would her opinion matter? It could have been the worst painting in the entire world and still be viewed as valuable, seeing it was painted by the hands of the Heiress.

From the corner of her eye she could see how the blonde kept her eyes on her, assumingly awaiting her answer. In response the guard tilted her head a little, pretending to stare at it just a little longer. "It sure is remarkable," she admitted. She herself was born with the artistic talent of an infant. Even though she didn't really get the whole appeal to the arts, she had to admit it was well done. "'Who is it supposed to be?"' To be fair, it didn't really interest her. Something that peeked her interest, however, was the curiosity towards the blonde's behavior. It was the first time an interaction between them didn't seem to have an underlying annoyance or a hint of spite. It was quite casual, and the guard couldn't help to feel the desire to explore this side of the future Duchess.

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

If it was up to her she would be doing this everyday. There was something so freeing in just being able to let creative (and other) juices flow, not having to worry about any of high society's expectations, about any of her duties. Just mixing colours, putting them on a canvas and watching it dry. Of course, most of the time even this brought certain expectations with it. She wasn't put through all those hours of art lessons just to play around with it; it had to be good. Some days that meant that she wasn't able to put anything down, suffocated by the pressure of perfection. That's when the wine came in handy. Of course, the paintings she made on nights like these were never meant for the public eye; her parents would not be happy if they found out that she used all these expensive materials in this way. It was therefore quite useful to ask her guard's opinion instead. He wouldn't be talking to anyone, let alone spill her little secret.

She narrowed her eyes slightly at the short man's words. Remarkable. That almost seemed like too difficult a word for him to use, as if it was just something he'd heard someone else say about a different painting before. Clearly no idea what he was talking about. The tall blonde sat down on a chaise longue, crossing her legs over each other as her gaze went from the guard to the painting and back. "No, Nyx, it is not about who it's supposed to be; it's about how it makes you feel." she said, softly shaking her head, her words slurring together ever so slightly. "So tell me, what are you feeling?" Her green gaze was now focused intensely on his face, as if the question was about more than just the painting.

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

Avoiding eye contact, the guard kept her gaze set on the painting as she awaited an answer. From the corner of her eyes she spotted movement as the Heiress made herself comfortable. Never before in her short time as a guard had she laid eyes upon the blondein such state. Her attitude seemed so relaxed compared to how she usually presented herself. Perhaps, the guard was no longer viewed as a threat or a punishment of some sort. Either that, or the wine just had a pleasant influence on her. Nyx liked to believe both to be true.

How it makes you feel? What kind of philosophical blether had she been brought up with? The guard tried her best to keep a straight face, almost having to call upon godly forces not to blurt out some shit such as "hungry", or "tired". She could feel the blonde's gaze pierce into hers., but strangely enough, it didn't really bother her this time. She remained silent for a few seconds. "I feel like I'd want to get to know her," she finally answered, averting her gaze from the painting to the blonde, her remark not particularly aimed towards the painting.

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

She never really wondered what was going through the guard's head, never before had she cared. The ugly truth was that her opinions were simply more important than his. Her thoughts could influence society, while his never would. The only similarity that came with it was that they both had to watch their words. Their opinions were never their own, as they both had to serve Ashmoor's future. Only Nyx could just be fired if he said the wrong thing.

Maybe she was taunting him, then. Asking for his opinion when it would always be in his best interest to just stay quiet. But it wasn't her intention to provoke him; she just wanted to know. Alas, he took his sweet time answering and so the blonde woman got up again, never quite able to sit still for long. She made her way over to the prettily decorated side table, just like everything in her chambers was prettily decorated, and poured not one but two more glasses of wine. A chuckle escaped from her lips as the guard finally answered. Get to know her. Did he ever get to know anyone? She truly couldn't know; she barely knew him, after all. Still, she had a vague idea, an impression that wasn't really based on anything but body language and assumptions. "Then you need to let her in." she answered, her gaze focused on a single red drop that made its way down the side of one of the glasses. She traced it back up with her finger before the sweet liquid hit the table. Then, as she looked back up to meet his gaze, she put her finger in her mouth, slowly taking it out after she had licked it off. Her gaze lingered for a second longer, seeing slightly double, then fell back on the glass as she handed it to him. "Here." she said, realising all too well the irony of her pouring a glass for a servant.

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

As she felt the absence of the usual tension between them, she found herself prone to pushing the boundaries in terms of appropriate behaviour. Pushing boundaries was nothing new to the guard. No matter the situation, she would always find herself in a dangerous position eventually, wondering how far she could go and eventually screwing up because of it. This time would be different. This job opportunity had been thrown into her lap like an affection-starved sailors' wife, and she wasn't planning on having it ripped away from her anytime soon.

Her internal monologue was interrupted by the voice that had grown familiar to her, though the tone was different from usual. Laced with a certain softness she had not yet experienced from the blonde. "Perhaps," she absently answered, a little taken aback by the answer and still partly straying within her own thoughts. Her gaze followed the woman before her, her expression shiftinh into a more surprised one when she noticed her pouring another glass. Quite.. seductively? Wait, what? The guard was quick to bid farewell to those thoughts, swiftly averting her gaze back to the painting. Would the Heiress be expecting company? Perhaps she invited the scrawny brunette, her fiance over.

That didn't seem to be the case, however. As the blonde approached her, she was forced to look her in the eyes again. It would have been inappropriate not to do so. To her surprise, she was then handed a glass. Hesitant to accept it, she slowly raised her hands towards it with furrowed brow. Was this some kind of test? "I more than appreciate the offer, your Grace," she started, letting the hand she raised fall back across the side of her body again. "But I don't think I'm supposed to accept." She gave the Heiress an apologetic smile. Was she genuinely being nice, orr just looking for a reason to fire her?

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

In essence, Alison was a generous person. She really went above and beyond for the person she cared about. But there was a distinction between pleasure and business and it was not her job to take care of servants, other than providing them with food and payment. Her interactions with them were work; they were there to make her life easier so that she could properly do her job. That was just the way the world worked. She wasn't cruel to them, but she did expect a certain standard of excellency and if they could not reach that, they could leave.

At least, that's how it would be once she was in charge. Right now everything still went through her father, and so she was stuck with a personal guard that was a foot shorter than she was. She still wasn't cruel, she didn't think, but she did get annoyed when it was revealed that he could not even ride, for example. That annoyance shone through in the way she spoke to him, curt and demanding. Tonight was different, though. Not because she had suddenly decided that she liked him, but because she wasn't working. She was having a night off, relaxing, enjoying herself. Maybe taking it a bit too far with the wine, but wasn't she allowed to do that every once in a while?

If only he wasn't being such a bore. It was clear that he was still in work mode -- as he should, honestly -- and therefore greatly contrasting her mood. Her brows furrowed together in confusion at his words, her head tilted slightly to the side. "Are you saying no to me?" she asked him, her voice innocent. In truth, she didn't even care whether or not he took the glass from her; she was just curious what his reaction would be. Toying around like a cat that had caught a mouse it wasn't even planning on killing.

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

Her time working for several criminal organisations had been more predictable than this woman seemed to be. It didn't matter that she had been forced to learn to be disciplined, cunning and quick-witted within her unpredictable , former lifestyle, nothing could have prepared her for being Lady Winter's personal guard.

Her answer was unexpected, causing her to respond with a lightly furrowed brow. Where she had thought of her action like some sort of test before, it didn't quite seem like it. Perhaps people of her status got lonely too, feeling the need to socialise with someone other than those they'd have to cautious with. The Upperclass had some strange, unecessary and wide set of etiquette after all.

The guard remained silent for a few seconds. "Depends," she started as a faint smirk appeared on her face. "I can refuse an offer, but I cannot refuse an order." A bit bold of a remark, perhaps, but with the change of atmosphere it became harder to suppress her natural charisma.

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

Was that a smirk she saw? Alison's eyes widened in surprise as a small, somewhat cunning smile appeared on her face. So he did have emotions. He had been so timid that she had started to think that maybe his quiet nature was the reason why he was hired in the first place. A balancing act, so to say. She was happy to report that she had in fact been wrong about that because here he was, throwing some actual banter back at her.

She liked the options she was given. Of course she had just determined that right now was a time of play and not of work. Still... the idea of giving an order right about now sounded rather pleasing in her head. She liked it when people listened to her, because it resulted in exactly that: order. Situations she could control were happy situations, and right now was her night off so she deserved to be happy, surely?

"It's an order, then." she said, the half-smile on her face growing slightly wider. She turned the glass around between her nimble fingers, effortlessly, watching the red liquid sway in its containment. The guard was standing somewhat far away from her, though, so rather than stretching out her poor arm that was a little tired from all the painting, she easily crossed the distance between them. The glass was raised up, pressed against the guard's lips so he would only have to open his mouth and swallow. "Drink up." she said sweetly.

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

Her smirk grew wider with her answer, part of her surprised by the way the woman played along. She didn't look nor felt like the Heiress at this point. Of course the both the fancy room and clothing gave away the fact that this wasn't just any ordinary woman, but the atmosphere within the room reminded her that even the Heiress was somewhat of an ordinary woman underneath all the expensive fabric and silks.

The blonde caught her off guard, however, when she closed the distance between them instead of reaching out. It wasn't often that the guard caught herself nailed to the ground, but even though she didn't plan on moving out of the way, a gut feeling told her she couldn't have done so, even if she desired.

With the glass gently pressed against her lips, her gaze shifted between the wine and the green pair of eyes in front of her, wondering why her heart managed to skip a beat. Encounters with women similar to this one couldn't even be counted on her two hands anymore. It had become a habit, perhaps a personality trait even. Yet, sharing a moment like this with the Heiress to her country granted her a type of adrenaline rush incomparible to what was known to her.

Without breaking eye contact she took a sip of the wine. After a second of hesitation, the guard raised a hand of her own, gently folding it over that of the blonde in front of her. Now that she was in control of de glass, she used the slightest bit of force to tilt the glass further, allowing her to slowly down the glass in one drink. If she was going to be drinking with the Heiress, she might as well show her how it's done.

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

The young blonde woman was cursed with very active facial muscles. Eyebrows that raised when she listened intently, lips that pursed together when she was concentrating. In another life, she would have made a fine actress, projecting her emotions far enough so that even those sitting in the back row would be able to follow along. In this life, however, there was a time and place for everything and sometimes her emotions needn't be so easy to follow. So she had learned to control it, to put on a mask that allowed her to keep a straight face. The one thing she still had a hard time controlling were her eyes. Even if the rest of her face remained perfectly neutral, she couldn't quite help a flicker of hurt or annoyance or wonder from being visible, green specks almost seeming to move along with the storm in her mind.

Of course, after having had a few drinks the mask wasn't perfect anymore to begin with and so she was quite a bit easier to read. It was clear that she was starting to be intrigued by the man, especially as his hand folded over hers. A rare occurrence. Usually when a man grabbed her hand it would be in greeting, hers on top of his, never folded underneath. Only her father did that sometimes, and his hands were big, strong, robust. This hand didn't really feel any larger than her own, but she supposed that wasn't too surprising considering the guard's height. Hopefully for him, the rumours about hand sizes were false, then.

Her pupils seemed to shrink as he downed the glass in one go, clearly impressed. She didn't say anything, but took the glass and put it down on the table next to her own before filling them both up once more. She handed it back, clinked her glass against his and brought it up to her lips, but not without tipsily hitting her elbow against the easel. The force caused the red liquid to miss her mouth altogether, instead going down her neck, chest and right onto her ivory-colored robe. Slowly her head turned down, needing a second to register the damage.

as long as we don't die
this is gonna be one hell of a story

Perhaps the guard didn't posess many talents which were able to contribute something to society, but drinking sure was one of them. Drowning your worries until all of your hard earned money had been spent on booze was one of the first things the lower ring taught her, though her height often granted her a disadvantage when trying to outdrink her buddies back then. This time, with Ashmoor's heiress as her companion, she might actually stand a chance.

Though, she should probably leave it at the one glass she was offered. Once the Duke would hear about his daughter's personal guard downing wine while on duty, she would soon enough find herself on those same lower ring streets once more. Beside, she wasn't quite sure about the intention behind the Heiress' sudden offer. Perhaps she finally came up with a plan to get rid of her midget guard, and tried to provoke her into inappropriate behaviour during hours of duty. That, or she simply sought out some company. Someone other than her upper class acquaintances or her scrawny fiance.

The guard furrowed her brow the now empty her glass was taken away from her, only to be filled once more before being returned to her. "My apologies, your grace, but I don't think I-" her sentence was interrupted by the sudden spilling of wine, which caused the blonde's ivory colored dress to be stained with a crimson color. The sudden accident had made the guard flinch for a second, worried that the Heiress might have hurt herself in the process. Luckily that didn't seem to be the case, but that wine would surely leave an awful stain. The sight, however, made it hard for her to hide a faint grin. She had never expected the Heiress to their city to be a little clumsy. Quite the refreshing sight, she had to admit.

As she inspected the damage done,perhaps a little.. too long to be considered appropriate, she was quick to avert her gaze to anything but the stained area of her dress, suddenly realizing that bluntly staring at the Heiress' chest could cost her this job, and possibly even her head. "Perhaps the two of us have had enough wine," she suggested with a faint smirk. Apparantly, even the highest of ranks didn't know their limit. "Would you like me to fetch you a clean set of clohing, your grace? We do not wish for you to catch a cold or anything, now do we?"

@ Ali <3

oh to be loved is not a crime

After the initial slowed down reaction, her mind did seem to sober up a little by the feeling of liquid dripping into her cleavage. Enough to realise that it would prove to be difficult to get a stain like this out of a robe like that. Her brows furrowed together in a frown as she assessed the damage, opening the robe in doing so. The wine had seemed to make its way onto her undergarments as well, the white lace of her camisole slowly staining pink.

Her head slowly lifted as her guard opened his mouth. As she listened to his words, his tone ("now do we"?), noticed the smirk on his face, her brows lifted in surprise and confusion. How dare he speak to her like that? Was he not here to serve her? "I do not remember asking for you opinion, guard." She crossed her arms, closing her robe up again in the process. "And do not speak to me as if I am twelve years old. Have you no respect for your heiress?" She took a step forward, not exactly closing the distance between them but just trying to get a closer look in her still somewhat intoxicated state. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something off about this guard. Something distinctly different from the previous guards she'd had.

She stepped back again and lifted up her hair from underneath the robe. "You do know you have been calling me by the wrong title, right? I thought it was nerves at first, that it would solve itself out, but apparently that hasn't happened." Her eyes looked intently at his face, at the continuous lack of stubble above his lips or on his chin. "Where did you say you received your training again?" Despite the fact that her mind was feeling slightly clearer, the effects of the wine had by no means worn off. Maybe that was the reason for her direct questions.