There is something behind the throne

Quilyan

greater than the king himself.

The stallion was unaware of his effect on the poor young mare, imagining that his way of speaking was something that transversed the boundaries of any land. His homeland, at least, had placed a great deal of emphasis on courtesy: the way one carried oneself, the way one interacted with others - it was a great game, where he came from, a game in which the stakes were a matter of life and death. He had always found it particularly satisfying to treat mares as the goddesses that they were, and his ability to do that, and do it well, had earned him many admirers back in Th'orqui. That he was flustering Myrrine more than flattering her was something that simply escaped his notice as a minute improbability.

It had been some time since he had been close to a mare, in this way or in any other. Resplendence, he supposed, would have been the last mare that he had grown physically close to, and the only mare who had borne his seed (he tossed the thought away - it was foreign, slipping through his mind as though of its own accord). But he didn't remember. He knew that it must be true, of course - he had met Rue, and although that was entirely accidental, it had chased away any lingering doubts. Still, before that... back when he could remember... well, he had flirted with plenty of noble mares back in Th'orqui, but that had been years ago.

The realization of Myrrine's closeness made him uncomfortably warm. He tried very hard to shove the attraction that she had unwittingly pulled to the surface aside, to ignore it - she was in no position to be flirted with, even, much less for him to get some kind of sick enjoyment out of her touch! But she was just so damn close, and the sweet smell of her was wafting into his nose, and he suddenly didn't want to let her go --

Zarina bit him on the ear, and he clenched his jaw to prevent any indication of pain from leaking out. It did, at least, prevent him from doing something stupid.

And then Myrrine pulled back suddenly, so the prince lifted his wings again, surprised and flustered, but relieved. The sudden rush of winter air that split the distance between him served to cool his boiling blood, and he shifted slightly, clearing his throat. Yes, this was much better. Whatever urges he may or may not have would be much easier to control this way. "Ah - no, m'lady, I didn't mind at all. It was... rather pleasant, actually," he remarked with a crooked smile. Flirting from a distance was much better. This was a game he could play. "Do let me know if you wish to have another - what did you call it? - outburst." He chuckled slightly, teasing in his violet gaze. He sobered, adding, "You really shouldn't hold it in until you explode, my dear."

Talk talk talk.

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