Princess Alver (og Cale x Alver)

Part 4

The lout of the Henituse family indeed.

Alver wasn't mad, she would have to care about the obnoxious jerk to be mad about it, but there was a certain level of indignity that came with waking up to being shoved off the bed by the bastard that you went out of your way to assist the night before.

Alver had left without complaint or comment after her rude awakening, deeming the idiot unworthy of her time and decided to focus on more pressing matters. Which included just about anything that wasn't the annoying bastard.

And disregarding that, Alver had to accept a certain blow to her pride that she'd actually fallen asleep in his arms to begin with. Or the even bigger blow to her pride that it had resulted in the best night's sleep she'd had in recent memory.

She really couldn't think of the last time she'd slept that comfortably or happily. She'd even had comfortable dreams about tasting the clouds or something else that would hardly have appealed to her while she was in a wakeful state. If she hadn't awoken by colliding with a plush carpet and hilariously inaccurate insults, she could have listed it among her best nights of sleep ever.

Well, that was in the past. Her desire to investigate the suspicious lout dwindled somewhat upon experiencing the full force of his idiocy.

Alver really didn't have the intention of meeting him again anytime soon, or really ever again, but fate apparently had other plans.

The drop over the wall ought to have been a short one before she would land neatly on the other side.

Alver's eyes widened as she spotted a person lying on her intended landing spot, a bottle of alcohol at his side and his own eyes widening as she descended from the sky. Alver had been jumping over the walls around the city for the majority of her time here in order to avoid detection and not once had there ever been anyone anywhere near the walls to even witness her.

And yet, here was the collapsed drunk that she wanted to see the least of all.

Alver landed on top of Cale with thump and nearly knocked her forehead against his as she lost her balance in her attempt not to hurt him. Two strong hands gripped the small of her stomach, balancing her and supporting her weight easily.

A lot more strength than anyone would expect from a drunk collapsed on the ground.

"Do you drink every night?!" She cried despite herself. She really had no desire to know but really, that couldn't be healthy.

Cale blinked owlishly as though pondering how she didn't know the answer to that question. "...yes?"

Alver sighed, remembering just who she was talking to and collecting her frayed nerves. "Doesn't matter. This filthy peasant will be leaving now, young master."

She attempted to stand up but Cale didn't let go immediately. His eyes widened as he realized this and he hurriedly released her, looking away with flushed cheeks.

Alver blinked in surprise.

Curse it all. Alver couldn't help but be interested in the damn lout despite it all. He was an obnoxious bastard who didn't know his place, acted suspiciously, and got himself in far too much trouble but there was just something about him that drew in her curiosity and she couldn't help but want to know more.

Alver fixed the trashy bastard with a chilly look. She wasn't Prince Alberu right now and therefore she had no reason to pretend to be affable. And curiosity about him didn't mean she was fond of him.

"Is there something you needed, young master Cale Henituse?"

"Yeah." Cale smiled crookedly, regaining his composure. "Your name."

"Bob." She replied dryly, flipping hair over her shoulder but notably making no attempt to leave.

Cale's lips twitched upwards farther and something gleamed in his eyes, her own interest reflected in reddish brown depths. "Is there a reason you're sneaking into the city, Bob?"

There was something so sharp about his question that was much unlike all the attitudes he'd shown her before. The drunkard, the insolent jerk, the defenseless victim–looking at his expression at this moment she felt like she had met an entirely different person.

Elegant.

It was a strange word used to describe a half unconscious drunk but it was the one word that truly apt with regards to him. It wasn't any one thing in particular about him. It was somehow everything.

The quirk of his lips and the look in his eyes. The set of his shoulders, the sweep of his hair–she realized too late that she'd been admiring his appearance and now he was smirking. Her scowl darkened.

Although strangely her mood didn't.

He was interesting. She was reminded of the reason he'd first caught her eye. There was something not quite right about the infamous lout.

"I went for a walk." She replied to his inquiry, curious how he would take to her lie.

"Impressive." He said, making no effort to sit up or to release her wrist. Alver realized that she'd spent the last few minutes, more or less, in his lap. Technically she'd never forgotten but there was something about the shameless look in her eyes that brought color to her cheeks. "If I didn't know you were a liar, I might have believed that."

Alver pulled away, heart thudding in her chest and a strange feeling overtaking her. It wasn't like she'd said it to be believable but there was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was seeing right through more than just her lies.

She had no way of knowing that she mirrored that expression in how she looked at him, critically tearing apart his every defense and seeing what had been hidden to everyone else.

Alver pulled her hand away and stood up, looking down at the recumpant drunkard with an expression of veiled contempt.

She didn't hate him, not really, but she wasn't prepared for how it would feel to be seen by him.

"I could say the same to you." She said with her signature sunny smile crawling onto her lips like a defensive instinct. "Hardly anyone notices you're not drunk, do they?"

It was worth it for the way his face froze over.