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[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."

[provocant]

He is wise not to trust her impish, playful nature. And she simply throws him the most innocent of smiles as they walk. "I am not sure you can handle such a task."

[warriorborn]

"Would you prefer another guard to escort you, as I am incapable of performing the duties you require?"

He highly doubts any other guardsman would be able to tolerate her impish nature half so well as he, let alone respond to her prompting with as much equanimity.

[provocant]

She throws him a flat look, lips quirking at the corners ever-so-slightly. "I think we both know the answer to that question is no."

[warriorborn]

Benedict smiles his most serene smile back at her, feeling somewhat vindicated. "Then tell me what it is you require of me, and I shall do it."

[provocant]

Glancing at him, "I do not require it but I desire it."

Her expression turns wicked for just a moment before she looks ahead towards the familiar door that leads to her rooms. "I would like it very much if you would take me to bed."

[warriorborn]

Benedict, who can handle nearly any situation with equanimity, chokes on absolutely nothing and winds up spluttering for a moment as he regains his bearings.

It is not an entirely surprising request, as they have been clearly heading in that direction since the very first day she settled herself in his lap and kissed him, but he cannot lie and say he was expecting her to say something quite so bold aloud.

"I—" He clears his throat, swallowing and pulling his dignity back around him like a cloak. "I will gladly escort you to your bedroom."

[provocant]

When he's struck momentarily dumb and then struggles to put his words together, she almost laughs, feeling a sense of triumph. However, his reaction makes her equal parts amused and frustrated. Because of course, he slips back into that familiar mask of propriety, glossing over her request. It takes all of her energy not to roll her eyes.

Ninon put herself out there, offered herself to him in no uncertain terms, terms he understood clearly (if his reaction was any indication) and he'd skipped over it. Usually her bold nature paid off better.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," she says, stopping their forward journey to look at him. This is their last chance for a small amount of privacy before her maid attends to her and readies her for bed. "I do not understand you, Benedict. I believed that you have enjoyed our time together." That their enjoyment was a real and mutual feeling.

"Have I been..." Had she forced him into this? Suddenly she feels dread. "Have I been wrong about what you want?"

[warriorborn]

She stops, and he is forced to as well, lest he wrench his arm away from hers. In the dim light shed by the lumin crystals lining the hallway, he's all too able to see the realization dawn on her face, the assumption she makes that she has somehow forced him to do something he did not wholeheartedly want to.

"No, no," he rushes to reassure her, his arm dropping from hers so he can take her hands in his and squeeze them gently. "That is not..."

He shakes his head, and sighs. He might as well come clean about everything, even though he thinks she might possibly laugh at him. A man of his age...

"I was chosen to guard your body, Ninon, not to...covet it." Bracing himself, aware of the pink in his face and the fact that there is nothing he can do to will it away, he squares his shoulders and doesn't quite meet her eye. "And... I do not know how. I... do not wish to disappoint you."

[provocant]

The relief she feels upon his insistence that she had not forced him into something against her will is short-lived but oh-so-welcome. She would not forgive herself if she had somehow abused her position of power for her own pleasure, amusement at his expense.

He goes on to explain his hesitance. At first, it seems to be his sense of duty, that he should not want her because she is his charge. But when he goes on, when he says what he does, it takes a span of two breaths for her to completely grasp what he means by it.

If the moment were less serious, if his body language read some other way, she might have laughed at what she assumes must be a joke. There is no way a strapping, attractive man like him could be... She looks at him with wide eyes for a moment, her hands still in his and she is quick to turn them, to grab his hands instead, pulling him a little closer to her.

"Is that true, Benedict? That you have never..." He doesn't need to answer, the way he cannot look her square in the eye and the earnest nature of his tone speaks volumes. She steps closer, her words low and kind and truthful. "That matters very little to me and I can teach you."

[warriorborn]

She seems surprised, almost comically so. Benedict can feel the humiliated blush creep up his neck, his cheeks growing pinker by the second and his ears aflame already. If he could will the Spirestone beneath their feet to open up and swallow him whole, he would.

Ninon is so worldly and wise, a beautiful woman who is intelligent and witty, sharp as the sword at his hip and with a tongue twice as deadly. He has never wanted to appear as some naive child to her, and now here he is, confessing something that, intellectually, he knows is not the end of the world, is not even really so shameful. Despite what's bandied about in the guard's barracks, he doubts every one of his peers is as well versed in pleasure as they claim. And yet, to admit himself ignorant is deeply embarrassing.

When he had been a monk, this whole issue wasn't even remotely relevant.

"You seem to forget what I am," he points out quietly, still not meeting her eyes even though she has stepped in closer. "Nobody has ever wanted...me."

[provocant]

Her hands drop his in favor of taking his face in them. Damn anyone who might see them. And damn any woman or man who has ever made him feel that he is less, made him feel unwanted. Her hands tilt his face towards her own, so he will look at her, so that he will understand and trust what she is about to say.

"I want you." Clear and simple. "And I do not care if you are celibate or have been with hundreds of women. That does not matter to me. I want you."

Benedict has always been a quick learner, from what she's been told, from what she's seen first hand. She has no doubts that he will easily overcome inexperience. She is, now, more determined than ever to bed him, to make him feel wanted, desired.

"This should not be a point of shame for you."

[warriorborn]

"If I were celibate," he cannot help but say, only slightly managing to look her in the eye, "it would not matter if you wanted me or not."

It had been a small part of the appeal of the Temple, if he's being honest. To have that entire social minefield removed completely, to no longer have to worry about making a fool of himself in front of pretty women he might wish to impress. To spend the entirety of his days in quiet contemplation as he studied in the Library, or brought alms to the poor.

"Shame does not much listen to reason."

[provocant]

She brushes off his first comment. It does not apply to this situation as he is certainly not celibate. Despite their various interuptions and false-starts, it is clear that he is interested in her, physically.

"So I've come to understand," she says lowly, knowing full well that her own points of shame do not adhere to reason. "And yet, I want you all the same." She gives his hair a gentle tug before she separates them, taking the path of reason this time, knowing that they are mere steps away from someone who can discover them.

"And trust me, you will not disappoint me."

[warriorborn]

Perhaps it is because he feels so vulnerable in this moment, perhaps it is because her stepping away from him reminds him of his duties towards her, but the look Ninon gives him as she promises him he will not disappoint has him balking a little.

"Ninon..."

It is not right. He ought not even call her by her given name, were he properly following protocol — although that really doesn't seem to sit well with the Spirearch's family, as even the Spirearch himself insists on being called Addison — and the scandal that would ensue if anyone found out that he was sleeping with his charge would be astronomical.

But he can't deny that he wants her, desperately. He's been denying himself what he wants for so much of his life, that the prospect of potentially being able to have it, to have her, is somewhat overwhelming.

[provocant]

"It is for you to decide. And only you," she says with a gentle, uncharacteristically helpless shrug of her shoulders. She cannot and will not force him into something he doesn't want. It's obvious that he wants her but she also knows that the risks might be too great for him.

For that, she cannot fault him. She is royalty in her own right, the scandal may inconvience her for some time but it would not ruin her life like it will his.

"I will be in my library at midnight." She reaches up to touch his cheek and smiles before she moves forward towards the door, knowing on the other side of the door is a team of servants ready to prepare her for bed.

[warriorborn]

He swallows sharply when Ninon reaches up to touch his cheek, his own hand lifting to catch hers as she withdraws so he can bend over her hand and kiss her fingers, grateful and reverent even though he does not know exactly what he's going to decide in the end.

Letting her slip away, Benedict watches until she closes the door between them and then takes up his customary place outside her doors, trying to reach deep into himself to find that calm center that was so easy to sink into when he was at the Temple.

[provocant]

There is a certain thrill that comes with knowing what she knows about him now. Despite what she may have thought, he has no experience in the ways of women. It is an exciting prospect, to show him how to do... well any of it. To show him what pleasures and joys can be had and provided.

She's distracted all the while her maids work on undoing all their previous hard work, stripping her of her gown, helping her to bathe and unpinning her hair.

Soon enough, she's in her delicate nightclothes and robe, finally left alone and able to slip into her library. She takes a book from the shelves and begins to read, eager to see what his decision may be.

[warriorborn]

Benedict spends the entire time he is standing guard outside her rooms warring with himself, going over the same old arguments he's had in his head countless times already. She is quite obviously a woman grown, so that, at least, is not an issue he has to worry about. And yet, she is a good ten years older than he, if not more, and with that undoubtedly comes some issues he has not yet considered. Will she expect things of him he cannot give her? She already knows that he is a virgin, that he is utterly ignorant of what to do except in the most theoretical of senses. She has said it doesn't bother her, but it does bother him, and what else is there to say about that?

If they are discovered, she will never escape the gossip that follows her. Every man she speaks to will be a potential lover in the eyes of the ton, regardless of who he is or how old he may be. She will be painted as some sort of insatiable hussy, a woman who is slave to her desires so much that she does not care if she beds even one of the warriorborn.

Benedict's personal reputation will be ruined, but at least he can take solace in the fact that all he will be doing is confirming people's worst suspicions about him; he is already assumed to be ruled by baser animal instincts, so the gossip-mongers should be thrilled by his lapse in judgement. He will be stripped of his position, potentially even stripped of his commission with the Guard itself — oh, Addison will undoubtedly be furious, that he took advantage of the kindness offered him in such a way — but at least he can always return to the Temple if he has to. The monks will despair of his poor judgement, but they will welcome him back into the fold nonetheless, of that he is moderately certain.

Still not having quite reached a firm decision, Benedict finds his feet taking him through the door into Ninon's rooms without conscious direction from his brain, and when he slips through the adjoining door into the library, his heart is beating as fast as a Cat's in his chest.