Silk & Satin

Glossy, Black

Ilya's knees were shifting under the table, bouncing in irritation as he heard the same old tales fall from Lucio's lips. His guests were delighted-- they always were. Lucio was an admirable mercenary back in his younger years, and the stories of his victories and vicious battles were whispered in mirth among the Vesuvian citizens, ending in doubt or admiration.

He tried to hide the displeasure in his face, choosing to take a sip out of the wine in his cup instead, his eyes closing, not daring to gaze at anyone aside from the Count. A little shiver went down his spine as the chains attached to his wrists touched his skin, cold and gleaming beautifully. Truly, he'd grown fond of them by now. While he knew the countess chose them only for their aesthetic value and nothing more, he couldn't forget the shame of wearing chains as a.. literal slave.

Memories flooded his head, like they always did- of the good times. Before the war, before being taken away. Images of a girl with beautiful auburn hair, round eyes gleaming with tears as the two were separated. He catches himself before tears well up in his eyes, drinking the rest of his wine slowly, feigning interest at Lucio's words. Deep down, he hated the man, even though he could admit that his life was better in the castle than it was in his home in Nevivon. Freedom, however, has a taste so sweet that no wealth or palace could provide.

He felt warm eyes settle on his form, and turned to see who they belonged to- Nadia. The Countess.

As much as he hated the Count, the Countess was a surprisingly sweet and serene woman, albeit a bit picky. He trusted her the most in the palace, aside from a few other servants that he'd spend time with whenever they were allowed to reside in the garden. Her lips were pulled into a smile, as she rose from her seat, all eyes on her. "Excuse me, my dearest Count, dearest guests- your company is exquisite, however, I am afraid I need to retire to my quarters for the evening. Thank you." she says, her voice leveled and careful. This was his chance to go. "Julian, come with me, will you? I need your assistance." she says, voice softer, nodding at Ilya. He was so tired he didn't even care about the name he was called with- only arose from his seat slowly, eyes on the ground as the satin of his clothes fell slowly against his legs, golden chains feeling cold against his chest. He smiles at the count's guests before joining Nadia.

As they reached Nadia's quarters, her servants helped her remove her heavy attire, replacing it with a thin, turquoise-colored night gown. She stared intently as the servants undressed Ilya, the satin flowing off of his lean arms and chest and down his legs, his accessories removed with a soft click! of a clasp. He was slipped into a pretty burgundy robe, the color matching his cheeks as he noticed the hungry look Nadia looked at his body with. "My, that color fits your complexion so well. Perhaps we should have you wear it more often, mh, Ilya?" she whispers, her voice dripped in mirth. He relaxed at the mention of his real name, smiling genuinely at the Countess. 

"Who am I to say no to that, my dearest Countess?" he says, with a teasing tone at which Nadia snorts. He sits down on the bed, crossing one long leg over the other, placing a hand on top of one leg, his pale skin contrasting beautifully against the burgundy of his attire. He felt Nadia's eyes darken, her eyeing him like a pretty jewel, her hands itching to drag her nails across the skin of his legs. Her eyes fell on his pretty hands, on his long nails, and an idea popped to her mind.

"Oh, how beautiful those fingers would look with a touch of black.." she whispered, mostly to herself, as she asked for a servant to bring forth some supplies. Ilya's gleaming eyes gave away his excitement at the idea of having his nails painted, something he'd never done before. Nadia chuckled at his reaction, taking one hand into her own, eyeing the slim fingers, her own ghosting over his soft skin. She looks up at him before placing a soft kiss at the top of his hand, and then kissing his knuckles, his hitched breaths fueling her actions further.