Dusk had been on the sea for several years already, sometimes months on end, and he was a powerful swimmer. He was quick and could go long distances, and even once had to swim several miles to catch an empty boat carried away by a current, and so had no doubt that he could catch the noble girl Victoria and swim to the landmass towering a few miles away. But he had never swam such long distances while supporting weight, never considered swimming himself and Victoria the entire distance either. There was a storm dying in the distance, and the sea was gentle that night and for the most part kept Victoria suspended close enough to the surface for Dusk to not have to swim so far down to get her, as well as help buoy the girl up into something far less weighty than a sack of sand. But her unconscious body wanted to sink and Dusk had to fight that for those few miles he had to swim.

It hadn't been but an hour that Dusk was out at sea that his burning fear for the safety of his crew was completely overcome with fear for his own safety, and another hour after he was starting to feel like his very clothes were trying to drag him to the bottom of the ocean. The only thing that perhaps kept him even mildly conscious was the choking sensation of water filling his mouth each time his strokes weakened and the slight warmth of Victoria's body sliding this way and that. All of his energies were focused purely on keeping Victoria afloat by the time they drifted into a small lagoon, and he was barely conscious enough to acknowledge the sensation of sand scraping against his back as the waves deposited him on a beach.

Almost as if his body was fixated on the notion of constant motion, he rolled himself over, pushing Victoria off of him and onto the wet sand. Movement in the corner of his eye spurned his battered body onto his hands and feet, but only managed to prop himself up on his elbows and the motion made his entire body shudder as he violently hacked up sea water. His mind was nearly delirious with fatigue and pain and he half imagined seeing a few figures moving toward him, figures that were shaped like humans but moved like no humans he had ever seen. They seemed to glide over the sand, silent and still, and seemed so dark, as if something were sucking up the moonlight that dared to touch their form. Another figure was walking toward him, behind the first few, and this one was completely black. Yet it moved with mass and crunched the sand underfoot as the sounds of fabrics swishing followed in its wake. In his fading conscious, he almost fancied it to be a woman, but everything became black and Dusk fell over with a thump.

~~~~~

The sky was already cast with the glitter of the stars, the storm clouds rolling on the horizon with a satisfied look on their faces. The view from the marbled balcony of the royal chamber would have been a very romantic one, framing the city below alight with evening lights and the ocean just beyond, except the moon on the first of Orion happened to be just a tiny sliver, enough to be considered a peculiar cluster of stars resting on the ocean plane. The absence of moonlight, certainly, prompted the heir of Griswold to set up a number of candles, to light up the fireplace to give light to his chamber, but he was nervous enough to have lit up a number of light orbs as well.

And for the newly wed Prince Kristopher Vilenthrope, tonight would be a tension filled one, for technically it was an hour or two after the marriage ceremony, an hour or two after all the nobles had cleared out, drunk but merry. He was sure that the following morning would be abuzz with news of his and the beautiful Princess Hilde Lannister's joyful wedding and the years of prosperity and peace that would soon ensue. He would have the eyes of two, nay, three nations on his back, including that of Hagar, and probably wouldn't have been surprised if the authorities of the distant nations of Hsarus and Onderana were watching too. But perhaps even more daunting were the eyes of his judging father and his father-in-law Vesper Lannister's as well! He was sure that if his father had had another son, even if Kristopher were the eldest, the King Lannister would've demanded that Princess Hilde be wed to his brother instead. The marriage was important, and that was what forced the king's hand, but without a doubt, he would be watching Kristopher closely and critically, for the only thing near and dear to the old man's heart was his daughter whom he had just given up for marriage to this boy Prince who probably could never be more than a scholar in interests.

But amongst the things that troubled Kristopher the most that night, before the burden he would carry from this point on or his image to the two nations, before even his father-in-law's hawkish gaze was the fact that it was an hour or two after his wedding. For his wedding was a traditional one, and tradition called the hour or two that followed the wedding ceremony to be the new king and queen's honeymoon, where the queen was appointed her first and foremost duty of providing a son. Hilde hadn't come yet, as more tradition called that the wife be presented to the king in a different set of garments and she was in her own chamber preparing. Kristopher could hardly sit still in his spacious chamber, didn't even cast a glance to the romantic view off of his balcony beyond the curtained glass doors that were closed due to the chilly weather the storm had left in its wake. He was alone in his room, all of his servants sent away and guards stationed a short distance from his own door, quiet respect for what was to come.

But what he would've done for someone to talk to at that point! A maidservant who knew what to do! It wasn't like Kristopher had done anything like this before! And the prospect of laying in bed with someone whose hobbies, let alone her personality, were still completely unknown to him was as nerve-racking as attempting to feed a starving, angry and untamed lion. The woman was as mysterious as she was beautiful in his eyes, and perhaps it was her beauty and her grace that made it so hard for him. If it were up to him, Kristopher would've pushed off the marriage until he knew her better, but the importance of the marriage had forced his hand too, not that he had much say in it considering the decision was mainly his illustrious parents. And now here he was, his thoughts wholly preoccupied with attempts at imagining what to say or what to do, interspersed with wonders on how he looked, what Hilde thought of him, whether his breath smelled or if he smelled, whether she was just as new to this as he was, etc. etc.

Kristopher fretted so anxiously in his room, nudging various items and things obsessively into perfect order, that when a knock sounded at his door, he didn't once wonder how no one had announced the Princess's arrival, which was custom within the Hagar's Castle. Nor did he wonder that the Queen of Pelta Lunata, who traditionally accompanied her daughter to the groom's chamber, hardly needed permission to enter, and that her escort would've opened his door without his consent whether he were undressing or whatever. Kristopher had snapped to attention, sweating underneath his robes as he frantically smoothed out his clothes and did his best to ease his trembling hands. "C-Coming!"

He scurried across his room, trying to slow his breathing, and grasped the handle in his hand, pulling the door open. Upon sight of the figure standing in the doorway, Kristopher's face flattened and his shoulders slumped with relief. "Oh... Y-You were at the ceremony, weren't you?" His eyes glanced about the dark hallway, his nervousness still clouding his eyes. "Where...Where are the guards?"