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[warriorborn]

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[warriorborn]

He chuckles quietly, lifting one shoulder in a laconic shrug.

"That's why I was chosen to guard you," he says, his tone so mild it's impossible to tell if he is making a joke or not. "I was once a monk, after all."

That is not quite true. He was a novitiate, hadn't quite gotten around to taking his vows yet, but he was almost all the way to becoming a proper monk at the Temple, dedicating his life to the study of the Way and good deeds done to benefit the community.

[provocant]

"I still find that hard to believe," she teases him softly, even if that is far from the truth. It makes complete sense that he would be a monk, given his ability to be both serene and brooding. It would be fitting if he were every to take the vow s of the monks.

"Selfishly, I prefer you here with me."

[warriorborn]

As a monk, he would certainly never have had the opportunity to sneak away with a beautiful woman, to put his hands on her and to kiss her. There were nuns at the Temple, of course, but they too had dedicated themselves to The Way, and took the same vows the monks did.

Besides, any dalliance with a nun would not allow him the opportunity to run his fingers through soft golden hair: the nuns shaved their heads just as the monks did. Simplicity and equality was the name of the game at the monastery, after all.

He rubs his thumb over the edge of her palm, and smiles at her. "As do I." Even if this is all he can ever have with her, he is still glad for the opportunity to have it.

"Besides," he adds, smirking. "I have been reliably informed that saffron is not flattering to my complexion."

[provocant]

How boring her life would be without him. It was more than just the passionate kisses and stolen touches. His companionship on a day to day basis was invaluable to her. It was rare that she felt as though she could speak her mind freely without judgment or rather, disapproval from others.

There are days he lets her ramble on about ideas and thoughts in her mind, things she longs to do, things she wishes her brother would do, changes and improvements she wishes to foster. She desires his company in the emotional/mental sense even more than she does in the physical.

"Oh, I think it would look rather lovely with your eyes. It's your hair I would miss," she says as she reaches up to run her fingers through it with her free hand. "How would I pull you in to kiss me without it?"

[warriorborn]

He likes to listen to her speak. Her mind moves at such a rapid pace, always churning one thought or other over and over again, that it truly is fascinating to listen to her ramble on about her ideas and plans. Also, he knows she enjoys that he listens to her, and so he does so happily, both because it is interesting to hear her thoughts, and because his simple act of listening makes her happy.

All he ever wants is for her to be happy.

"You think wrong, my lady," he murmurs, those eyes closing briefly as she pushes her fingers through his hair. "I'm sure you could find something else to grab."

[provocant]

"Only if you would permit me," she murmurs low, doing exactly as she said before, drawing him back in towards her, wanting to give him another series of kisses before he resigns them both to a night of boredom at the party.

She wants him happy too. But more than that, she finds herself wanting him. Just him.

[warriorborn]

He doesn't reply, simply allows her to drag him down to her level so she can kiss him once more, his hands settling of their own accord back at her waist to hold her close to him.

It should be obvious that he would permit her to do nearly anything to him, had he the freedom to do so.

As it stands, despite the sensible part of himself that is clamoring at him to return them to the party before someone notices their absence and goes looking for them, he allows her to distract him with sweet kisses, a soft slip of a sigh seeping out of him as his eyes close.

[provocant]

She knows that relenting, contented sigh well by now. She is so very good at getting it out of him, after all. Humming softly into the kiss, she pulls herself closer to him now that his hands are at her waist and he's not trying to get them back to the party. For the moment.

Compromise is important. So after a few more kisses, soft and sweet and encouraging, she pulls back just enough to speak. "Shall we go back to the party or stay here a little longer?"

[warriorborn]

She's unbelievable. Asking him questions like that when he can still taste her on his lips.

"We ought to return," he huffs, his sense of propriety warring with other, less-noble instincts. "As well you know."

It's very tempting, to take her hand and lead her further into the darkness of the Manor, into yet another out of the way room where he can set her on his lap and let her tug at his hair to her heart's content. Or, if he were even more daring, to let her guide him all the way back to her chambers, where he could allow her to coax him into her bed, although his imagination balks at continuing that thought, feeling voyeuristic and embarrassed even at the prospect of contemplating it.

He must resist temptation.

[provocant]

He is not the only one who can play hard-to-get, she thinks, unaware that it's not a game he purposefully chooses to play with her. His huff and tone of voice only fuels her smug smile as he tells her that they ought to return to the party. Her mind wanders the same way his does, however she doesn't stop herself nor does she feel bad for thinking such things.

She moves to brush her lips against his one last time, teasing and light. And with one last gentle tug of his hair, she pulls back from him. When she speaks, it's playfully formal and above a whisper so she can be heard if anyone walks by. "I will be retiring early this evening, Benedict. Within the next hour."

[warriorborn]

Sometimes, he is glad for his stoic demeanor, as it allows him to maintain his dignity even when he does not feel very dignified at all.

The way she kisses him and pulls at his hair leaves him feeling quite wrong-footed in the best sort of way, and it's only through long practice of keeping his composure that he avoids doing something like stuttering or blushing, not that she'd really be able to tell in the darkness anyway.

"I do hope you are not unwell, my lady," he replies, equally loud, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her performance. "It seems a pity to miss out on such an entertaining event."

[provocant]

"A sudden chill has settled upon me," she replies, sounding convincingly distressed and unhappy about 'the chill' that's come so suddenly. "I think my guests will forgive my absence. You are welcome to stay and enjoy it." Her smile turns wicked at that, not that anyone is listening but she's well aware he would probably rather not stay at the party if he's not required to.

"I will be in bed." She gives him a pointed look, adjusting the bodice of her dress purposely to further enhance her chest. For his benefit alone. It was too easy to taunt him sometimes.

[warriorborn]

If they were outside, and this weren't a party at which all the temperatures are carefully controlled, Benedict wouldn't hesitate to offer her his jacket should she truly be cold. It would not match her outfit, of course, but he can withstand the cold far better than her, thanks to his higher core temperature, and looking after her is his sole purpose in life at the moment.

If she wishes to distract him with her bosom, she succeeds. His reply is a beat too late to be flippant, and if she could see in the dark as well as he, she'd be able to tell that his ears are quite a bit redder than they should be.

"Do you require an escort back to your chambers?"

[provocant]

She doesn't need night vision to be able to see that he's flustered by her actions. Ninon is quite good at flustering men. She knows how, she excels at it. However, she's never felt more pleasure from it than she has with him. She takes pride in throwing him off balance when it's not dangerous to do so (which is almost always considering her life has yet to be placed in harm's way).

As it is, she is not actually cold at all. She'd just spent the last few minutes pressed up against him and his body was always incredibly warm, moreso than anyone else she'd ever met. "I can manage it myself, if you'd rather stay at the party and dance." Another tease, another chance for him to make a move even as subtle as offering to escort her to her rooms.

[warriorborn]

"I do not dance," he protests, sounding quite put-upon even though he does dance, and very well. Just hardly ever of his own volition. Before he started working for the Spirearch, Benedict had attended countless high society parties, usually as the escort of his cousin, and was therefore forced to dance with her each and every time. He's quite skilled at it, with an innate sense of rhythm and a gracefulness that comes naturally to all the warriorborn. Should he wish to dance with anyone, they would undoubtedly have a good time together, but since he now has the excuse of being Ninon's guard, he can get away without dancing at all.

Instead, he offers her his arm. "If you wish to leave immediately, I will see you safely to your rooms."

[provocant]

Ninon doubts his story very much, considering she has seen him dance with his cousin before. As a warriorborn, he was difficult to miss and she knew of him before she ever met him, as she'd taken an interest in warriorborns and their quality of life in the Spires.

However, her fascination with him was beyond anything she feels for any other person she's met. And when he offers his arm, she takes it easily. "I suppose I should. I will send the maid with my apologies to the host and the guests." That will keep the poor woman busy.

[warriorborn]

He tucks her arm securely in the crook of his own, and leads her towards the corridors that will eventually lead to her rooms.

"You know as well as I that it is me who should be delivering such a message," he murmurs, looking straight ahead and not even glancing at her. He knows what expression she will wear should be try to do so. He's not wrong, though. Her maid should be kept in attendance to help her undress and to look after her needs, not sent away to the other end of the Manor. Benedict should deliver any message she might require sent, or better yet, he should find another servant to do so, so he can remain at his post outside of her doors.

[provocant]

"It vexes me how determined you are not to be alone with me in my chambers," she says with a playful lilt, although there is truth in those words. It's frustrating how gallant he is, how married to protocol he is. However, she assumes that's what makes him good at his job and it is the very reason why he has been given it.

Frowning slightly as a thought flits through her head, she keeps her gaze steady and forward. "I will truly not be offended if you wish to return to the party. You are young, you should be enjoying yourself."

[warriorborn]

This time, he does turn his head to look at her, one eyebrow arching eloquently.

"If you truly think I wish to return to that party, you don't know me half as well as I think."

Granted, she doesn't know him half as well as she thinks, but that's not her fault. Benedict is always reticent to talk about himself, especially since she, technically, is his employer and he doesn't think it's appropriate to go spouting off about his hopes and dreams when they won't come true regardless, and him telling her about them will just make her feel bad.

[provocant]

"And whose fault is that?" She calls him out because they both know he isn't forthright with details about himself or his life. Usually, she has to ask him direct questions to learn anything about him and how could she possibly know which questions to ask?

She looks up at him with her own arched eyebrow in challenge. "Perhaps a morsel of food that drags you and your endless stomach back? Or you saw someone who caught your eye?"

[warriorborn]

While Benedict is a little hungry right now, the food at the party does not appeal to him. Mostly because it comes with the party attached, and he really doesn't want to have to deal with that right now.

He huffs quietly and turns his head to watch where they're doing, but his arm does tighten slightly, squeezing her hand between his elbow and his side.

"Who might possibly have caught my eye when the only woman I've been watching all evening has been you?"

[provocant]

His words walk the line of being truth and flattery (another thing that Benedict is good at). And she hums softly, pretending to think of an answer to what he says as they walk through the corridor, the party's sounds no longer muffled but left behind.

"As lovely as my gown is, surely there were more interesting things to distract you."

[warriorborn]

"It is not your gown I am interested in, Ninon."

Benedict is a font of seemingly-endless patience, but sometimes he grows tired of the way most women balk at asking a question forthright, instead preferring to come at it from an angle that practically requires advanced schooling to decipher.

"What is it you wish me to say?"

[provocant]

"Not a thing," she says honestly, smirking. She is not fishing for him to say something in particular. Ninon is a woman of confidence, she does not need to hear him say that he prefers her above all else or that he thinks she's beautiful. It is nice to hear, to be sure, but she is no longer a young woman who needs reassurance.

She knows he enjoys her company, it's clear no matter how subtle he tends to be. But oh, she does enjoy teasing him.

"I can think of things I'd like you to do."

[warriorborn]

And, once again, in classic Ninon fashion, she pretends blithely to not know what he was talking about, clad in an almost believable facade of innocence that he still nonetheless doesn't quite trust.

As deadpan as he can manage, he replies, "I'm almost afraid to ask."