12282/Shipping It (IV) The Iceberg

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Shipping It (IV) The Iceberg
Date of Scene: 02 October 2020
Location: Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay
Synopsis: The iceberg does not melt, but it does thaw a little and Emma finally gets her feet beneath her once she and Garth have an actual discussion about things.
Cast of Characters: Tempest, Emma Frost




Tempest has posed:
The embassy is being readied for tonight. 'Islands' of alcohol serving stations have been installed. It would be gauche, were it not for the fact that little stations are for Tritonian bartenders to mix drinks for the guests. The stations themselves are subtle and elegant as temporary structures can be and the tanks are being filled for the bartenders. Most of the guests, after all, have never met an actual mermaid. Janice is wearing a slight frown as she deals with a pair of gorgeous women wrapped up in blankets in wheelchairs. "The amenities are sufficient ladies?" She calmly but precisely asks the girls. A subtle motion reveals that they are both tritonians- their tails can be spied at the bottom of the blankets. One gives a nod. "When you can, lady Janice, kindly instruct us on surface world mores and morals?" She asks. The other chimes in. "Yes, we wouldn't want to inadvertently cause a scene. We are not going to be expected to dress like her, are we?" The mermaid indicates Emma, apparently finding Miss Frosts' attire to be incredibly boring.

Janice pinches the bridge of her nose in clear frustration; these women might not have been selected for their agreeable nature. Though clearly intelligent, there is this petulance about them. "No. You will be clad in Atlantean clothing, still, please do try to keep yourself somewhat covered." Janice pulls in a breath, clearly frustrated. "I understood Queen Mera selected you personally for this activity." Which is the issue, clearly the young women seemed to think that they were to be hostesses for the prince and not servants for the evening.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma is amused by the frustration and annoyance Janice is giving off, but she offers the woman a sympathetic smile. Her curiosity about the Tritonians, she keeps to herself for this moment -- her slacks and silk top are perfectly classic.

Tempest has posed:
"Please go on in, Miss Frost. Prince Garth is in meditation, but we have been told to let you in regardless." The older woman obviously possesses a mixed opinion on that. The cursory mind scan from Emma indicates the irritation has nothing to do with Emma; Janine actually holds Emma in some esteem. These girls are the root of the irritation, as well as the preparations for the event. Even Garth is vexing her a little, and she has an almost motherly affection for the young man. Garth seems to favor hiring women who will look out for him. That almost certainly is some sort of warning signal about mommy issues. Still, Janice does not disapprove; it is more a bit of concern that a go-getter like Emma will simply create drama that the young man is ill-equipped to handle. Janine is smartly dressed, a brunette who compensates for her lack of height with a heeled boot that indicates a sense of style and taste similar to Emma's own. The woman is wider at hip and slightly worn from the years and a few children of her own and bears a shocking silver streak in her hair that she bears with some pride; she earned that gray hair. It ages her a little, but the woman is in good shape for a woman expecting her first grandchildren soon. Personable, smart, and loyal it is obvious why Garth has the woman running his personal office on the surface side. As she opens the door for Emma, Janine's nose wrinkles as she hears the simplistic stylings of Howard Jones. Her eyes roll despite herself. Her thoughts are more or less along the lines of 'Oh God, he is in one of his moods again'. She swings her dark eyes to Emma. "He... has eclectic tastes in music." It isn't quite an apology, but it is a close neighbor. The room has the sunshades drawn and the lights dimmed other than the soft blue lights.
    You can look at the menu, but you just can't eat.
    You can feel the cushion, but you can't have a seat.
    You can dip your foot in the pool, but you can't have a swim.
    You can feel the punishment, but you can't commit the sin.

    And you want her, and she wants you
    We want everyone
    And you want her and she wants you.
    No one, no one, no one ever is to blame.
    You can build a mansion, but you just can't live in it.
    You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win.
    Some break the rules, and let you cut the cost.
    The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost.

Garth of Shayeris is obsessed with music from a time long before he was born. For some reason the 1980s really resonates with the young Atlantean Prince; perhaps because so much of it is hopeful and looking to a better future? This is not that sort of song; this is a song about loneliness and the clawing futile efforts of the lonely.

He is floating in midair, and his hands are extended to his sides, slowly gesturing with his eyes shut as he plays with the water from his pool. The water floats eerily before him. It circles and cycles, flowing in a vaguely cylindrical shape and moves with its own subtle interior flow. Garth's eyes are closed and he is simply reaching out with his perceptions. He simply feels the water and lets the water wash away at whatever it is that prompted him to meditate. It is so easy to forget that he is some sort of mystic. He likes to talk about living in two worlds, but really it is three.

"What might I do for you Miss Leery?" Then a subtle waft of Emma's perfume reaches his nose. "Oh. Miss Frost?"

Her presence is a surprise and sends a ripple through the water. The formerly calm water demonstrates a stronger current for a moment as his concentration is broken. It falls from its position to splash onto the tile floor, which suddenly seems like a practical necessity.

Emma Frost has posed:
As Garth's assistant lets her into the office, the sound of music comes to her ears and Emma pauses. If she wonders about his mood, she doesn't say so? but as she steps into the office and finds him floating with water making soothing patterns in the air, she crosses her arms thoughtfully. Janice's departure is accompanied by the closing of the door behind Emma. The white-dressed blonde's appearance is, as always, impeccable. Her slacks and blazer are properly creased, the sleek silk shell is pristine, and her white heels bring her to the statuesque 6'1 mark. Her blonde hair is caught back in a twist, and delicate, sinuous platinum and diamond earrings catch the light when she turns her head. Her Arctic blue eyes study his demeanor as the water falls to the floor, and she has to fight her instincts to simply brush over his mind and determine what has caused the upset.

"Something is disturbing you," she observes. "Are you well? Do you wish me to come back at another time?" The offer is made gently -- not because she is disinterested in his thoughts but because she's attempting in her cool way to acknowledge that he might not be in the headspace to discuss work things and she is not good at the personal things that may be on his mind.

Not that she has any right to ask about such things.
    Why *is* she even asking? She doesn't usually bother herself with other people's woes. Unless, of course, she gets to crush the person causing them. He might need that! Oooh, that could be fu-- No. She's being better than that these days. He probably wouldn't ask anyway?

Tempest has posed:
He frowns at the water on the floor. "Sorry." He says, lifting his left hand to begin to gather the water. "I did not get any on you, did I? All that white, I might have ruined your surface-worlder modesty. My apologies." He sounds sincere if a little dismissive of her modesty as if it is not a shared cultural norm. As he holds his hand, water begins to form into droplets and slowly rise and lift upwards into a single vaguely spherical orb like a reverse rain. "If you need the moisture wicked away, step forward and I will dry you. Have no fear, It is not a tactile process. I can not sense what the water touches, not in a real sense."

Garth is quiet for a moment as if measuring his words. HIs thoughts are compartmentalized. He is mulling something over, obviously, and now he is considering whether to seek her consul. Ultimately, with a little shrug, Garth does just that. "I am struggling with a diplomatic decision. You are likely familiar with the mutant known as Magneto. He is the de facto, if not internationally recognized ruler of the so-called mutant homeland of Genosha." He explains this in an even-handed way.

"Is he a terrorist or a freedom fighter? A visionary or a demagogue?" Garth's right hand flips over between each word as if mulling them over or considering them to be different sides or viewpoints of the same thing. "I am planning that announcement party. Should he be invited if he is in New York? What of Victor Von Doom? He is a more legitimate ruler. WHat am I? Diplomat or hero? Man or Prince?" His lips quirk in a slight smile and he again gives a fruitless, confused shrug.

"No one is just one thing, and so much is a matter of perspective." Garth settles his purple eyes on her as he moves the orb of water over towards his pool. The floor is absolutely dry in Garth's wake.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma has to agree that no one is just one thing. Especially Erik Lensherr. "I'm uncertain at this moment that inviting Erik is a good plan, given the stand-off with police. I have no idea whether von Doom's even welcome within the country's borders. That would be something to have your people check at the State Department," comes Emma's cautious reply. Her familiarity with Magneto as a person, however, is obvious in her use of his name as opposed to the codename. Magneto's identity isn't exactly secret. The fact that she is worried shows only in the very faint line that has appeared between her brows, the rest of her expression is as smooth and neutral as it usually is when they talk business. It's only when he flirts that she flusters, generally.

Tempest has posed:
"I think we are of the same mind." Garth says with a cultured, even princely nod. "Please?" He gestures to a seat. Still, he shows indecision in his shoulders. "If they show up, I am not going to ask them to leave, and only ask them to treat my nation's embassy as they would have their own be treated." If such rogue states were allowed such amenities.

"I admit, part of me still wants to invite them. No one can change unless they are given a chance to do so." He admits this with another shrug. "I would hate it if I were always nothing more than Aqualad. People, like plants, need things to grow. Perhaps it is too late for those tigers to change their spots." He mixes the metaphor.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Mmm," Emma offers quietly. She's one of those tigers, after all. And she doesn't necessarily think Erik is *wrong*. She's just unwilling to be at outright war with ? well, *everyone*. Besides, she has other things on her plate at this moment.

As she moves amid the water, she can't help but smile slightly at him. "Your control of the water is quite deft," Emma compliments. "Next time, perhaps, I won't worry about getting splashed." Not that she was worried about that to start with -- a woman who wears nothing but a white bustier and cape with thigh-high boots has little to really worry about in the modesty domain.

Tempest has posed:
"Oh! You liked the earrings?" Garth's eyes dip to her throat, but no chain or medallion. "I was worried they were a bit much." He admits it. "The chain is from before the fall. Some of my ancestors were not as kingly as they should have been and went into the water with more wealth and comforts than was maybe wise."

Garth adds, "And the secret is to understand control is illusory. The water complies because it complies. When it speaks to me, I listen." It is deflection. His tone shifts. "Then perhaps next time I will splash you." That's him flirting.

Emma Frost has posed:
A hand comes up briefly to touch the earrings and Emma can't help the small smile that looks a little abashed. "I love them. And it *was* too much, most certainly. But?" But she loved them. And she blanches just a little at the information about the chain they came with. "You gave me--" something from BEFORE THE FALL?? *Now* she's flustered. That's? well, it's rather huge. She can't even respond to the flirtation because she's practically choking on her tongue at the implications of a gift thousands of years old. "That is? irreplaceable, Garth. I would--"

Tempest has posed:
"So are you." Garth replies with his customary calm. His smile is abashed and again he gives her a little nod of his head. "You are a serious woman of means and ambition of your own. You are a Princess of industry. You, no doubt, have many men who seek your attention."

Garth was doing pretty well there, so he thought, but as those words end, he feels as if he is floundering. His confidence is a little fragile when it comes to these things. "I.. have many deficiencies. I am certain the fish jokes have started. There is a price.. a cost? For every choice and decision. I needed to show you that I took you as seriously as you deserve, Miss Frost. Be-besides? Far better for the sunlight to sparkle on it than for it to sit in a massive vault full of the pilfered goods of Old Atlantis and the spoils of wrecked vessels. Unused, unknown, and in the dark."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's flush is definitely one of shock rather than embarrassment or shame. She moves slowly to seat herself in one of the nearby chairs. "I? should not keep such a priceless artifact of your people." But he can see her reverence for what he sent in the way that she puts fingertips to her throat as if to touch the necklace that she opted not to wear (because she didn't wish to be *obvious*). "I, uhm?. Thank you seems entirely too minuscule for such a gift. But? thank you."

Tempest has posed:
"Then send it back if my advances are ever unwelcome." Garth says even handedly. "The earrings and the medallion are yours for so long as you will it. But if ever you decide that you no longer want me to pursue you, merely send the necklace and the jewel back." Garth shrugs his shoulders, settling his backside on the desk as he leans against it. His left hand absently pushes through his hair as he nervously licks his lips. Staring down a supervillain? No problem. This girl makes his skin itch. He slides a hand to his collar ro actually pull at it a little.

"I am glad that you like it. I should think it looks beautiful on you."

Emma Frost has posed:
If she weren't already planning on wearing it to this gala that he's asked her to help host, she would be now. "It will," she acknowledges softly. "You'll see for yourself." And after *that*, it might go in a bank vault with a crap-ton of insurance on it. Not that anything could cover the loss of it either in cultural or sentimental value.

Clearing her throat, Emma murmurs, "You've made me forget what I came for." Her laugh is a touch breathless. She's still sort of reeling from the revelation of what she has in her possession.

Tempest has posed:
"You should see the tiara it matches." Garth deadpans. "Fit for a queen." He tilts his head as he regards her. He isn't clever enough to say that and move on as he is on purpose. He's no Lothario. Rather, he is nervous, so he says that, loses his nerve, and simply moves on.

"You came to discuss the gala? I understand the lawyers have almost hammered everything out and there have been no fatalities." His smile is small. "Merely hurt feelings."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma looks almost relieved that they don't have to converse about a tiara! "Yes, well, they're lawyers -- they make their money hurting everyone's feelings," she deadpans. "And yes, the gala? and we've received word from the State Department that a field trip would be fine. I just will need to make a few adjustments? if they're even possible." She clears her throat a bit. "I've had to step up into ? running the school. The headmistress had to step away for a time."

Tempest has posed:
"You will not be attending the tour?" Garth has his brave face on but the disappointment is palpable. Were she reading his mind, oh the images that shatter in that instant. He apparently had romantic intentions for her on the trip.

Emma Frost has posed:
"No, no," she hastens to assure. "I can go. I just--" Oh dear. Emma blinks and calls on every ounce of the dignity that has served her well over the years. "Garth, if I were going to back out I would tell you up front." She absently touches an earring, an unconscious assurance that it's important. Not the *thing* but the whole situation. "No, I can still go. Is there a way to make sure that I can still be reached if necessary, however? If not, I will just need to make additional arrangements."

Tempest has posed:
The prince is momentarily frustrated, "We are not a society of --" Garth bites his tongue. "Yes. We have satellite communication and technological as well as magical methods of communication." Garth shakes his head. "We have lights and music. Art and traditions. We have all the amenities. Although I will have to teach you how to use the toilets."

Emma Frost has posed:
She looks a little bit amused. "You are a bit of a secretive people, Garth -- I didn't mean to imply that you were in any way backward or not advanced." Emma definitely had no intention of offense. They are a hell of a lot more advanced than the surface. "I just didn't want to assume that I could do something as simple as leave a phone number if being able to get into touch was a bit more complicated than that."

Tempest has posed:
"Emma Frost." Garth says simply, though he has a slight eye roll going on as he says it. "If you are needed back at your school, I can and will use every bit of my eldritch might that I have available to teleport you back there post haste if that is what you need. I give you my solemn word as a prince of the blood royal and as a man who rather fancies you."

He pauses. "I'm not good at this romance thing. I? do not like to let people down. I think a couple of my teammates from the Titans might be coming. Should there be an emergency you will find our resources at your disposal. You have my word." He pushes a hand through his hair. He's agitated, but not because she upset him.

"I want to be someone you can count on." There. Garth said it. He looks uncertain. That cannot be unsaid, and to Garth it feels like he's said too much.

Emma Frost has posed:
She is still not entirely convinced that he knows what he's getting into, romancing her the way he is. Emma crosses her legs and leans back in her chair, getting comfortable there. "I have every faith in the idea that you will do exactly that, Garth," she assures softly. "I ? have a feeling I'm going to be apologizing to you quite often." There is a low sigh that accompanies the observation. "I am? very good at business. But despite my innate talents," her telepathy, "I am *not* so good with people. I almost never say the right thing, and frankly when I do open my mouth, it's usually something rather cutting." She's working on that! It's just not in her nature to be open and all touchy-feely. But this is important enough to her that she wants to make sure he knows he's doing nothing wrong.

Tempest has posed:
"They call you the Frost Queen in the business world. I did not expect you to be a cuddly person." Garth admits this, one hand settling on the desk. The other gestures as he speaks. His violet gaze finds places other than Emma to gaze at.

Emma Frost has posed:
"They are not wrong." Emma grimaces slightly. She can be rather arrogant.

Tempest has posed:
"There are, uhh, other ways for us to communicate." Garth says finally, gesturing at her with a shrug. "It might leave our mouths available for other things." His cheeks go twelve shades of vermilion. He has not really asked her for a kiss. They've all either happened in the heat of a moment, or he's made the move and lived with the potential fall out. "Although, I can appreciate if that is too intimate for you. I do not understand how it feels on your side."

Emma Frost has posed:
There is a long moment where Emma pauses and considers what he's said. And then she seems to make a decision, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her legs after uncrossing them.

<<The touch across his mind is gentle, a request rather than the firm insistence she might otherwise employ. As he allows her entry past his surface thoughts, she allows him a sense of *her* -- her power, has a weighty feel to it, like there is a great deal of it and she has it well in hand. She draws him into a link between them. A brief flash of *something* that feels hard and cool passes through him when she allows him past innate defenses but not past the deeper shields. Her diamond carapace comes from the core of her, after all. She lets him feel enough of her to know, perhaps even inadvertently, that although she has strength and the titanium will to wield it? there's also a deep well of emotion that is safely contained behind that shield. She is not evil? but she *is* driven. Cautious. Wary. Viciously protective of those she allows close. And prone to keeping others well outside that shield that protects the gentler aspects of her personality that exist behind that shield that she still hasn't dropped. Maybe can't drop.>>

If he was uncertain that telepathy would be intimate, he has his answer in the fact that her instinctive move is not to cast him out of her mind but to soothe any of his own emotional jagged edges while he's within hers.

Tempest has posed:
Garth is kind. It is that simple. He is a gentle soul who is a warrior because he values others and knows he has the strength to persevere. He is absolutely, abjectly alone, uncertain, and isolated. Everyone feels like no one understands them sometimes. Garth always feels that way. He has deep seated abandonment issues, no doubt because he was abandoned. Internally, he is a mess. A mass of insecurities. He's like a duck, looking placid above the water but underneath he is kicking furiously to keep moving. He is just doing the best he can from day to day and trying, perhaps fruitlessly, to use this immense power he has to make the world a better place. There is, hopefully, some grace in that.

What he sees in Emma is someone who can understand his burdens and responsibilities and not let him flounder in indecision. That is his biggest fear; that he will let his issues stop him from doing the right thing.

He forces himself to look at her. "There is nothing ugly inside you." He says it simply. "I admire your strength. I.. am not strong. I'm... a mess."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma shakes her head slightly. "You just didn't see the messy parts," she tells him quietly and rubs her hands up and down her thighs. Her palms are sweaty. It was as much as she could offer? and truth be told, she only offered the best of herself whereas he trusted her with the worst. Sure, she could have seen it all without his permission, but he literally offered it up instead of offering the good that she's seen. So she lets him see what she is seeing of him -- his willingness to try, to fight, to always do the best he can by the people who rely on him. Hell, he's allowing her to see all of him *knowing* that she is afraid to let him close -- it's something she admires in a great many ways. She's a closed-off person. Or at least, she's always thought of herself as an island in a frozen sea of turbulence. Maybe an iceberg would be more apt. The thought kind of amuses her for just a second.

Tempest has posed:
This is normally when a grand gesture would be in order. This time, though, Garth doesn't. He sinks into a chair and regards Emma with his violet eyes. He regards her for a moment in what to him is a comfortable silence. "I'm not scared, and think yourself cool and unapproachable if you want?. You do not come here just for business, and you cannot say otherwise without it being a lie."

She is really a pain in the backside, and Garth wonders if that is something wrong with him. Is he only attracted to the unobtainable ones? Perhaps the isolation and alienation of his life is armor to protect him from others? He rejects the premise without little thought; no. He's lonely and he hates it. Garth needs to see if there is a future here. His chest rises and falls in a deep, long sigh. "One day, you will stop trying to save me from you." He says finally. "I do not need saving anymore than you do, Emma Frost."

Emma Frost has posed:
Will she drive him away? She usually does with anyone who dares breach those walls. Emma smiles just a little at him, wondering for the first time if her past and the secrets she holds are really a problem or if they're just excuses. She finally tells him quietly, "I want to believe that if you saw all that I've done, it wouldn't change your mind." It's a difficult admission -- it's bad enough, to her mind, that the opinions of those at the mansion have the power to prick her feelings. His ? has the power to actually hurt her feelings, and it's been a long time since that happened.

And the hypocrisy of telling Jean that locking up parts of herself in a cage would destroy her doesn't escape the blonde.

Clearing her throat, she offers, "You did know my reputation." She's 'difficult.' Frigid. Emotionless.

But she's not. She's just very guarded. And she chooses to answer in more intimate fashion, allowing him a glimpse past her guards she's afraid of being hurt too. <<I know you don't need saving.>>

Tempest has posed:
That is a little ominous. Garth was ruminating on other things, and to start down that particular train of thought. As he considers, Garth slouches in his chair and steeples his fingers in front of him. He considers her, angling his head to his lift, tilting his chin. "I am not interested in the person you were." He says finally. "I am interested, attracted to, fascinated with the person you are and might be some day. I know you have a past. I am positive that you and I never will agree on everything. I don't think I want that anyways. So, I don't care what you did or who you were so stop fretting over them. You have a past. So do I. I am interested in the present and the future. How about we start there, and if you can accept that, and if we progress, one day in the future we'll have the talk about pasts?"

Garth places his hands on the arms of his chair and gently pushes himself straight in his chair again. His purple eyes regard her seriously. "I'm a prince. I'm a servant to a king. I am a leader, even if it is not what I would have chosen for myself. I have had to compromise from time to time."

Emma Frost has posed:
He's not afraid of her, and it genuinely fascinated her. She's shown him that she could be messing with his head, she's admitted to doing such in the past. She's teased the White Queen's demeanor where he can see just a couple of times. And he's *still* not afraid.

A smile quirks the corners of Emma's mouth upward and she finally concedes, "The present and future." That's what they'll focus on. Her fingers lift to touch the earrings in her ears and the smile widens, still soft. "I do enjoy the chance to visit you in person," she teases. Because he's right -- the conversation *could* have happened by phone, after all. She doesn't come just for business.

Tempest has posed:
"And yet you perform none of the actions that are made possible by face to face communication." Garth replies to her, giving her a gentle, even mild shot across the bow on her reticence. "I have no idea why you are so skittish." The word is chosen to mildly irritate the woman. "However glad I am to see you." Garth says more sweetly, almost as if to provide a verbal balm to his words. "I presume that I should dress in Surface-worlder fashion." He wrinkles his nose with some distaste. "For this event, I shall."

Emma Frost has posed:
She moves to stand now, comfortable once more with him. A brow tips upward and though there's a flash at the challenge, she still looks amused. "You will be dashing in a tuxedo, I'm certain," she assures him. It looks like she's preparing to leave but her step brings her to stand in front of his chair.

Emma leans down with her hands resting on the arms of his chair, close enough to tantalize him with an almost-touch as her position keeps him from standing up. Her voice is low, almost mesmerising. Face-to-face activities have been the method she's used to manipulate everyone when she wants something. There's a reason the White Queen is sexualised the way she is. She brushes a butterfly-light kiss on his lips, lingering provocatively. "I'm *skittish*," she whispers, "because it matters."

Tempest has posed:
That is the first time she's made the slightest move towards him. Inwardly, well, there will be no living with him after this. "I am happy I matter." Garth says, keeping most of his self-satisfaction and contentment from his voice, but only most of it. "Icebergs do melt, it seems." He says quietly.

Garth regards her seriously. "If I matter, then do not allow a good thing to get away. We live in a dangerous world. Okay?"

Emma Frost has posed:
That he doesn't swallow hard when she lets that glimpse of the other side of her out actually surprises her. Most men do. Emma doesn't let it show -- much -- and she withdraws to stand upright. "We do," she agrees mildly. "You have me looking forward to dressing to impress for the evening." Her smile reaches fully into those glacier blue eyes, warming them to an aqua color. "I'll see you soon, Garth."

Tempest has posed:
That is what burrows under his armor and when she scores a hit on his insecurity. She can actually see a bead of sweat on a brow and watch his throat work a nervous swallow. "I look forward to that, Miss Frost. I await our next encounter with great anticipation. Is there any color I should wear to match or to avoid to clash?" HIs tone is controlled. "Remember, I do not perceive color quite as well as you do."

He doesn't need to tell her that his other senses are far in excess of host humans. That he can taste her lipstick, even if it doesn't smear, or that he can smell her, or any number of other things. That is unimportant. Right now his purple eyes are matching her blue ones and Garth is just trying to be flirty and sophisticated even though he feels like he just started swimming in far deeper water.

Emma Frost has posed:
Her retort is a wicked smile with a look from the corner of her eye beneath her lashes as she steps back toward the door. "Nothing clashes with white, your highness." He *did* goad her just a bit -- now she's engaged in the game. Her movements are regal despite the almost-purr to her voice as she leaves.

Tempest has posed:
Normally, he is a gentleman when she goes. She must have scored a good hit on him, as Emma can feel his eyes linger on her as she goes. Not quite predatory. Still, lingering and not at all innocent or wholesome.

Garth again swallows and pushes a hand through his hair before muttering in Atlantean to himself. "Careful what you wish for."

After she leaves, Janice walks in. She looks at the young prince, and sighs. "We'll clean you up properly, Garth." She shakes her head ruefully. "She might break your heart."

"Yeah." Garth replies. "It's good to risk a little now and then. You don't see Icebergs at this latitude very often."