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Help? Hm. With Galar's royals in Hoenn, it does lead to a level of uncertainty. Duncan doesn't signify any worry about the ordeal. What was there to say of the matter? Diana is correct. Duncan could speak his mind, but it was a tired rhetoric he'd prefer to hold his tongue over. No heads need rolling.[break][break]

Instead, he decides to focus on the other words. To quell her frustrations, he parts his lips, but he holds. His smile is delicious in conflict, on the one hand curved with malevolence, like he knows something, some terrible secret. Yet on the other, it knows forbidden knowledge it'd rather stay blissful on. Much like his one golden eye that Diana can see, the other sits behind his hair bangs, the true expression hidden.[break][break]

"How indeed," he chimes playfully, considering words to carefully. Does he reveal himself, what color pieces he plays with? Or does he let those around him continue to play colorblind, only able to see gray pieces?[break][break]

He pauses and takes a breath in.[break][break]

"I am how I've always been," he peddles in truth and lies, weighed on a scale, a social balancing act. "Smiling. No?" Happy? Sad? Angry? Exuberant? Those aren't words he is willing to use so willy-nilly. What he is, is smiling, a metaphysical set of rusted chains attached to his arms and body to ensure he moves a certain way, controlled from above by something out of sight, and out of mind.[break][break]

But who pulls the chains?

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Stealth is easy to do with a Duke that often snuck away from duties, and used so expertly on the dear Baroness, he gives the look. A smile, easily found when she's against the door, easier still now that the tables turned effectively for him. Whether it sat as a game for him or not, was only for him to know, but the smile he gave and the advance would show each step calculated, and she found it out even through redder cheeks, and with the name that exits his lips, he is all but certain to win this war.[break][break]

So stiff, stiffer still to an advance. If it wasn't Duncan, would she have done this? Only Estelle would know, and Duncan would never find out. But even so, he did it anyways. Why? What ran through his head?[break][break]

When she gritted her teeth in a smile, forced as it was, she spoke just as stiff. "Then i would say nothing makes my heart happier than for you to be pleased," he smiles again, as each word comes out, until-[break][break]

"-Duncan." For a long, long five seconds, Duncan's demeanor changes. Instead of a smarmy smile, his lips curve into a neutral expression, his lips parting as he stared forward. There was no blush on his cheeks or embarrassment to be seen, but he seemed disarmed. His one eye was open so wide.[break][break]

And in a moment, he felt something he had never felt before, the way he felt warm.[break][break]

"Yes," he chimes painfully. "I," he trails off, and in her request, he pulls away, his hand returned towards his side, but his eyes never once peel away from her. "I'll put on pants now. I assure you, Stella, it was merely in jest." Again, he uses that nickname, an emphasis laced upon his lips. Like he tasted both syllables upon his tongue.[break][break]

Then he turns away for pants. No smile.

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Laughter. Genuine, almost, as Duncan is seen, and in moments yet again, she is flustered beyond belief. In those few moments he had seen her sleep, he pondered the idea to stir her from slumber. He decided to. But it keyed him into something. Perhaps she should rest soon... Pepper seemed so content to boot. Pepper was never content with others this quickly.[break][break]

She was quick on the uptake, flustered and asking him to put something on, yet smart enough to realize that any answer Duncan could give would just open the door further. He zips his lips, the knowing look on his face. But Pepper? Oh, she was bitter about being awoken, but the quiet chirps of the ride came, as Estelle would act the part of the Baroness.[break][break]

How forward. Dining in here?[break][break]

He had been quiet. But the moment the door closed, his hand smacked into the wall, leaning over her, the six foot frame allowing Duncan an easy view of her. In that moment, he would flex not his Duke status, but the status of a man engaged to a woman. He stared down at her, not the same smug smile, but the vulnerable look as his face was close. Hot breath moved from his lips downwards, One eye always open, half-lidded.[break][break]

"And if I said, it pleased me a lot... Stella?" He asks, so close, so very close, and yet never moving a step forward. Respectful, but showing something Duncan never did.[break][break]

Interest?

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The strained smile is not lost on him, but it appears to be ignored for a moment, as Duncan reflects the strain. Little few knew what went on inside his head, and most who heard his betrothal came to accept that it was inevitability. The bloodline would continue, the royalty would stay royal, keeping the cycle of regal procreation going endlessly over and over and over again. How good for him.[break][break]

Celebrations given by many a faceless royal, playing a game of thrones, where the one who sits on the throne. To those in the courts, they extend a flower in one hand to show kindness, the dagger in the other, hidden with intent.[break][break]

"How true, that is," he turns to the side, a yellow eye looking elsewhere in the woods, perhaps beyond it thousands of miles away. The reflection shatters, and his smile, for the second time since his arrival, is taken away. "The game continues on, endlessly. When we were young, we played games to enjoy ourselves, yet the further we age, that very nature morphs into a endless power struggle. Everyone turns to a piece on the board, born into higher value based by who came before, who one marries, who one kills... and yet you escaped," the look in his one eye... was that...?[break][break]

His smile returns.[break][break]

Diana takes a seat, and as he orders Kingsley to hold fast, Duncan moves to join her, seating himself like a commoner, and seating himself in front of her.[break][break]

"There are two answers to that. The public answer is, I'm just glad I get to see an old friend," the single moment of vulnerability gone, but even so, it was clear he was just like when they were younger. Ten years older than Diana, and forced to act in a way. The perfect duke-to-be. A smile to keep them guessing.[break][break]

Too smart for his own good.[break][break]

He doesn't give her the other answer.

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Kingsley relaxed the moment that the other bird relaxed, but the Farfetch'd would stand at the ready. Something about this felt off.[break][break]

Duncan wasn't going to have it though. He just smiles, and takes it in stride. Diana's question leads to an answer he sighs to give, a hint of annoyance not aimed to her, but given all the same. "As it would happen, business from the Queen herself has sent me here. I am betrothed myself, living in Rustboro," the tone he takes, it almost seems he's unhappy with the state of affairs, but it's so hard to tell.[break][break]

Because he doesn't stop smiling.[break][break]

But to hear Diana and Remiel are no longer betrothed has his hidden brow rise. Did he forget? Or perhaps, he assumed that things would play out normally? Galar's royalty was a mess.[break][break]

"My apologies, Diana. I meant no offense by it. I was left unaware," his arm moves to his chest, and he forces himself to bow, as does Kingsley. The Duke of Hammerlocke making it awkward, that was not something he did. He would fix this first.[break][break]

"How have you been?" he asks, trying to lighten the mood.

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"Ah, Miss Cavendish. My apologies for not recognizing you sooner. I wasn't expecting to see you, though I suppose I should have considering our relation to my cousin." Right. Her betrothed. He never loses that winning royal smile. Never to tell what goes on behind the one visible golden eyes amidst his hair. The black jacket he wore commonplace with normal civilian clothes.[break][break]

A quiet chuckle comes over him, as he turns to the side, the woman's own Farfetch'd at first ready to strike, as is Kingsley. Duncan doesn't speak, but he does give a smile to them.[break][break]

He liked birds.[break][break]

"Perhaps, Miss Cavendish. But I prefer to see the sights. It helped me reacquaint myself with my cousin's lover, no?" he speaks, wishing to gain more knowledge. Was Remiel Calcifet engaged happily? Or was this something that Diana had problems speaking of? Every word is deliberate, trying to figure out Diana, like a Rubik's cube that is always in motion. Every person has a story.[break][break]

Duncan just also liked puzzles.

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The war here in Hoenn was heating up. Going out on his own like this, was dangerous. The League and Team Rocket continue to poke at each other like two nasty Drapion, constantly in a turf feud for control.[break][break]

A problem that Galar is interested in. But it is not the place for Duncan to risk his life.[break][break]

Instead, his intent is to get his feelers on who the victor may be, when all is said and done. To report back to the Queen on the whereabouts of his sweet cousin, Remiel Calcifet , first and foremost. That's his task for today.[break][break]

Kingsley the Galarian Farfetch'd of his own, would accompany him as a bodyguard, carrying his leaf-blade behind him, as Duncan hears the sounds of another bird. The smile comes to his face. Another woman?[break][break]

Interesting.[break][break]

"Hello there, I seem to have gotten lost," he starts, a smile quietly placed upon his lips, hair over an eye to keep everyone guessing. "This is Petalburg, right?" Kingsley huffs. The bird knew that Duncan knew more than he let on. He always did.[break][break]

To anyone who was invested any amount of time in Galarian affairs, this was a sight to see. The Duke of Hammerlocke just appeared, lost in the woods, no less. To anyone wizened enough to know that much, and smarter still, could assume that Duncan was fishing for information. What this woman knows, in particular. Friend or Foe to the crown.

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There it was. Duncan's smile is all that's needed. He's pleased with the outcome, personally, as she's flushed ear-to-ear. With a long, long moment of staring as she tells him to keep with some level of decorum... he laughs.[break][break]

"My dear Baroness, relax. Is it not normal for an engaged duo to interact in such ways?" Of course it wasn't, because they weren't engaged by love, but by demand. The Queen states they are to be wed, so it was so. That was the way it was. Even so, Duncan can't help but poke fun at the woman. When she rests within their resting room, he would do his best to enjoy the wash.[break][break]

The shower was nice, cleansing over the body. Duncan's head pointed upwards as his silver hair was handled. A lot of more feminine products, such as those with exfoliation, were used now to help with his skin, and open the pours.[break][break]

Duncan was a man who preferred to smell nice. And so, he wipes over his body, quietly humming a tune as he did.[break][break]

From the outside, however, Pepper is moving towards Merlin and Estelle, the little fox would sit before the Togedemaru and Estelle both, eyes watching. The cunning of the fox proper may always be present, but a baby just wants to have attention set upon her. She can share with a little fuzzball, so upon the moment she can, she hops onto the sofa, and does a little twist, before laying herself down.[break][break]

Her ears flatten a little, as she enjoys the sofa. She's not perturbed by Estelle, and prefers the company, her docile natures hoping to help calm the Baroness. If nothing else, that was Pepper's job, essentially an emotional support Nickit with a cunning fox demeanor. If Merlin interacts, a paw is placed out to say hello. If scratch, she would push into the hand.[break][break]

Duncan takes approximately twenty minutes, but now dressed in a bathrobe, he would take a step out of the shower, hair in a microfiber towel as he would see Estelle on the couch.[break][break]

A pause, and a smile.[break][break]

"Hello again, my dear Baroness. Shall we? I'm starving," he smiles politely.

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Mirrors and broken glass are all around them both. They share a pain together. A Pain Split between them. Every reddening of her cheeks just feels like more glass embed inside him. He can feel the ire. He wasn't mad at his betrothed, he didn't hate her.[break][break]

But right now, he hated where he was. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.[break][break]

Yuina understood that. This hot little librarian-type, who in one day, had him forget Calcifet, and remember that there was a man inside of that. He was a Duke. He can't help but make the sad curve of a smile to her, as she regales everything he feels. One after another, thrown before his feet. It's painful. She must know from experience.[break][break]

Like a reflection.[break][break]

"Et tu, Yu'na? Yu're a smart woman," he flubs the pronunciation on purpose. His only eye revealed to her has a tear that cascades downwards, as he takes a step closer to her. He reaches down, the taller, thicker accented man briefly away from her face. And if allowed, he places one kiss to her cheek. "Love smart bonnies, myself."[break][break]

But he pulls back, and turns his back to Yuina. He takes a step away.[break][break]

"F'r what it's worth, bonnie. That exhibit," he starts and begins to walk away from her.[break][break]

"W'nderful. Take care of it... and y'urself."[break][break]

The broken glass digs further into his feet with each step. He doesn't turn to let Yuina see his eyes again. And when he's far enough away, he's wiping at his eyes, his lip trembling.

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Still nothing? Duncan's smile morphs into a smirk, but his left brow rises. Graceful as ever, Estelle adapts and overcomes. The only thing he gets from her is a sigh at the tour, and a gesture forward. And they were off, just like that.[break][break]

---[break][break]

The tour is rigid, upright, and probably one of the more stale occasions, but it's not without its merits. Seeing as the woman before him puts her all into everything, all he can do is smile and walk. In his head, he's analyzing every bit of the estate, wanting to ensure he has a mental map of it for his own needs. Every hallway, every door, meticulously attempting to piece together the puzzle of the floorplan in his head.[break][break]

When they reached his room, his smile shrinks down, his mouth agape, and moved to that of a whistle. "The architectural design... it's just as Galar's. Was this done for our sakes?" His hands glide over the walls, making further to walk in. The in-suite bathroom, the balcony, the space. He could do anything he wanted, and Pepper shows that immediately, running inside and nesting herself onto the top of the bed, the Nickit quietly brushing her tail side-to-side. With a chuckle now, Duncan remarks quietly to himself how fine the details of this build are.[break][break]

A shared suite? Good. A resting room for his own desires, but what takes his interest more, is the faintest shade upon her cheeks, the Baroness had finally cracked, mentioning her own room. Just as married couples in nobility. You've done your homework, Miss Valentine.[break][break]

But the anxiety of her fiddling her own silver locks, has him in the advantage. "I'll take you up on that offer. I could use a wash. You're free to join, if you wish. Baroness."[break][break]

He removes his jacket, placing it on a chair, before beginning to undress. His shirt first, slowly thrown to the side, before his own belt. Before long, he's undressed, and without a care in the world, as he walks to the personal bathroom. And with it, one single turn of his head. Wondering.[break][break]

That's Galar's ass right there.[break][break]

For the next little bit, he'd let her voice rest. She'd been talking endlessly. He'll take it from here.

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With entry allowed into the room proper, Duncan takes his stroll inside, making way inside, and giving an honest glance around. His back turned to Estelle, his head merely glances about for what reason, only known to Duke Hammerlocke himself. But upon a full sweep, his shoulders sag, as if he was holding his breath. With a single golden eye focused on Estelle, the other hides beneath the shadow of his own silver bangs.[break][break]

With the same disarming smile, he watches Estelle walk with a grace of nobility, a Galarian game of thrones that required that prim, refined, proper step she had. With a move of her hand up, she holds it at the staff, who held breath for his every desire.[break][break]

Come on. How could he not? A little teasing. She offers, so he takes.[break][break]

"You know. I could go for some Kalos cuisine! Maids, if you can, some salade niçoise, as Monsieur Demassieux (Julien Demassieux) might recommend. And for dessert, some crème brûlée, yes?" His smile never once leaves him. If Estelle truly means it, then he'd have quite the fun Kalosian cuisine for lunch. But, her word supercedes his. How would she react?[break][break]

A tour of the location in the meantime, while the staff takes his bags? "A tour from my betrothed of our domicile? Why, that sounds lovely. Lead the way, my dear." There's no sting in his words, but never once does he stop smiling.[break][break]

Never once stepping out of line, never stepping ahead, always one step behind. To watch her walk.

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With a shake of his head, Duncan stares at the flowers around them. "Y'uve done nothin' wrong, Yuina." Melancholy hangs in the air. It washes over him, it pushes down on his shoulders.[break][break]

"Y'ure just like me. Aren't you?" His northern Galarian tone low, a golden eye peering into her very soul, wanting to look in, but seeing the mirror that it was. His facial expression doesn't sour, it merely stands still at a broken, practiced smile.[break][break]

"Ma'names Duncan Calcifet. I'm the Duke of Hammerlocke," he laments quietly, a sadness upon the wind as it blows next to him, pushing his hair. He doesn't let her see much more into him. He holds fast, his smile telling all he needs to tell.[break][break]

He pauses, reaching into his jacket. To fish for his engagement ring to his fiancee.[break][break]

If he stays, he will regret it. Honesty. "I wanted to take y'u out. The hot lil' librarian look y'u had, the way y'ur cheeks heat up at a compliment. Y'ur passion inspired me. I wanted to see y'u more. Captivated, I chose to forget for a moment that I was a Duke," he starts, as he holds the ring inbetween his fingers, showing her see the source of that pain.[break][break]

"But I can't. The Duke is betrothed to anoth'r."[break][break]

The pain in his smile belies the façade he shows.

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Emptiness.[break][break]

Broken glass all around.[break][break]

When she speaks, the subject changes. While his face is unseen, his heart isn't. She's the first woman in this region, so far, that sees deeper. That cuts the first layer of him. And for the first time, Duncan feels that similar pain. He empathizes, because when he sees her, she's just as hurt as he is. Just as broken, fragmented. He takes a step closer. The fields of flowers feeling worlds apart.[break][break]

"I did," he starts, a step closer towards her. "-then I met a bonnie that made me question everyth'ng." He tries to hide it on his face, and no matter how he, or she smiled, they both just felt similar.[break][break]

"I like hist'ry enough, but it nev'r was my favorite subject."[break][break]

He's no historian. He met Yuina in the museum, in her Hisuian Exhibit. Happenstance. Just that. It was something else that kept him there. He turns back ahead.[break][break]

"Yuina," he stares. The complexity of a facial expression, riddled with turmoil superimposed over kindness. It bends deeper, the troubled sag of a smile. He says her name right as easily as he breathed. "I'd 'ave loved ta' see the rest of'em with y'u," he begins, only to pound the breaks so hard, he got emotional whiplash.[break][break]

He would have.[break][break]

Such is his curse.

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