The inspector looked from Tidus to Donovan, and paused. It was apparent he was judging whether Donovan in his current state should hear his next words. Farishel’s heart told him to remain quiet, but his station told him to speak the words. In the end his station won—these words that would have to be said at some stage.

"There appeared to be no suspicious circumstances. His wrists were slit, the suicide note left on a bedside table."

"We will need you to confirm and identify the body."

"Following that," he continued, cautiously, "it may be necessary to prove the veracity of your Lord's claims. If he was not true heir, then as Royal Court decrees, your house requires a new leader of the blood line to remain in the favour of the court."

It was quite a mouthful, and a lavish statement, but it was well known that a house without a noble leader was not a house in Variens. Centuries ago, a set of rules were established by the first monarchy, many the subject of some dispute. Today they had not wavered in the face of agitation.

Naturally, death under these circumstances was always pondered as suspicious—for example, was it possible a younger brother desired the seat and had engineered the assassination of his older brother? Thus, the constabulary had to take time and effort to fully investigate such occurrences. It seemed strange in this instance then that the inspector voice this an open-and-shut case. Perhaps it was related to the fact that Harvold had disappeared for months on end, and had turned up in this town negligent of his duties. Or perhaps it was entirely political.

The inspector looked on, as if seeking questions.

Donovan heard the inspector but barely grasped his words. Matters of state—and indeed sense—had slipped beneath the surface of a black pool of grievance. The advisor had slipped under, and appeared as pale as a drowned man. The tears held in the corner of his eyes, his mind grappling the current of horrible truth. Suicide, his mind echoed relentlessly over and over. His submerged mentality couldn’t grasp the meaning, so the wave of dissent kept crashing through him.

Through it all, Domenic succeeded in letting him supp the brandy. Donovan roughly swallowed down the liquor, dimly hopeful its intensity would help him focus better. He thought it did, but once Domenic had moved away his next attempt to swallow was unsteady. It seemed like a numbness had overtaken his body. His limbs felt choked and lifeless. Giving up, the clutched glass fell shakily back to the armrest of the chair.

The house advisor had been up most of the night supervising Marina after her incident on the beach, and now he had been delivered this revelation. It was too much to take. Tidus’s words should have been comforting, but he nodded glumly, almost vacantly, his dangling wolf earring the only real movement. It was Bianca who succeeded in capturing and focusing his thoughts, her touch on his shoulder sparking some emotion. In his mind, he swam through currents of depression and darkness, stealing closer to the surface. He hovered knowing she was above him, her radiance bathing the waves. He breathed a slight sigh of relief. He knew he had to do something about his feelings for her, express his love in some fashion. Would he die some day never having done so?

His own hand wandered up and caressed hers warmly, gratefully. Outwardly however he was still staring out into nowhere. But he heard the inspector.

Bianca sent a glare to Domenic, a flare of anger flickering in her. She detested alcohol, knowing that such a vile, and toxic beverage would not help Donovan with his internal arguments. Bianca refused to let her dear advisor be poisoned by upsetting moments, no, she would not let him sink into a pool of depression and self intoxication. Finger tips rubbed into his shoulder reassuringly, a genuine warmth spreading throughout her chest as her sweet advisor returned the affection. Hand shifted, lacing her lengthy fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze.

The midnight haired beauty turned her glare form Domenic, to the detective, trying to soften her expression. “Signore Inspector,” accent of her voice rolled off her tongue oh so honey sweet, “I’m sorry to interrupt such an important conversation, but I do think the Advisor has heard enough.” she walked to the side of Donovan’s chair, their hands still clasped together. “I hope you do not find me rude, Signore Inspector, but for his own well being I think it would be best if he’d rest.” tone of her voice gaining a seriousness to it.

---

Tidus looked down at his drink and nodded slowly, "Yes... it all seems rather in order doesn't it? All your ducks in a row, so to speak." he took another drink of his brandy which now went down even more smoothly than before.

Looking at the inspector again he pirked up at the need of his assistance. At least he would be working to keep his mind from bouncing about to all the possibilities that could have caused this unfortunate turn of events, "My abilities are at your disposal Inspector. I just have one thing to see to." he looked to the painter girl and Donovan and smiled to her, "Pardon me Bianca, set aside your temper," he set his glass to the side,"I was just about ask you to take our House Advisor to his room."

The house mage stood and walked over to her pulling her just to the side and speaking in a hushed tone, "I aim to see him well rested... keep him in his bed or at the very least in his room. I do not want to see him wandering about the rest of the evening or up before the hour of nine." he nodded and gave her a soft pat on her hand and leaned in to whisper one last thing before walking and crouching beside Donovan's chair, "Bianca is going to see you to your room. I want you to rest. I am going to go with the Inspector to do what I might. I will inform you of my findings no earlier than nine tomorrow morning. Go with her... and I'd rather you made it so I didn't have to induce your sleep." he patted the terribly distraught advisor's hand and stood again nodding to Bianca.

Tidus looked to Domenic now, "I know it its quite a load but it isn't for long, I just need you to take up the slack that Donovan's absence will leave." He fully espected Domenic to do just that, Donovan wouldn't have chosen him as an aid if he wasn't capable.

Now turning to the Inspector once again he took a deep breath, "I will meet you at the door. I have to fetch my bag... and then... we will discover what there is left to be found." With that Tidus headed off for his room.

---

Bianca’s fingers slid away from Donovan’s as Tidus gently pulled her off to the side. Intently she listened, hearing out what the house mage had to secretly say to her. She nodded her head in agreement, “I will be sure to keep him at ease.” whispered Bianca. Though, when Bianca thought Tidus was done speaking, he added an addition request.

As the house mage walked toward Donovan, Bianca looked to the side, hoping that no one would notice the bright shade of pink across her cheeks. Flutters of butterflies tickled at the inners of her stomach, mass of black tendrils being pushed over her shoulders by her hands. Peach skirts rustled as she walked back over to the distraught Donovan’s side, “I should be getting you to your room, Donovan.” she said softly, lips turning to a warm smile.

“It was a pleasure to have your company, even during these circumstances, Signore Inspector.” Bianca gave the inspector a quick curtsy before she leaned down to grasp Donovan’s arms, hoping to help him stand.

Donovan let her bring him gently to his feet. While he felt giddy, he could stand. A hand rubbed awkwardly at his eyes. “You’re right, both of you. I am sorry inspector.”

The inspector nodded, and stepped back politely, giving the man a path of clearance. Delivering bad news of this nature was never easily done. In this case, Farishel had done his job, but it occurred to him that it perhaps wasn’t the case that Harvold would not be grieved. He and others of the constabulary had deliberated that the Lord Dilysnia was something of an arrogant, fanciful man who had left too often a sour taste in the mouth of his family and associates. Perhaps, he reflected, this household would feel the loss great.

As Donovan let himself be led away by Bianca, the inspector spoke to Tidus in a soft voice. “There is no need for haste if other circumstances dictate. I understand this news is something of a regret.”

The raven haired woman slid her arm supportively around Donovan’s waist, her hand resting low on his hip. Pink coloring on her cheeks only burned stronger as she felt the heat of Donovan’s body through the fabric of her apparel. Secretly Bianca breathed in Donovan’s scent, those butterflies in her stomach fluttering around in a frenzy. “I do not think I have ever been so close to Donovan before.” thought Bianca inwardly to herself. One foot forward, and then another, Bianca walking toward the door and leading Donovan along with her. Just as her finger tips brushed the metal of the door knob, she turned her head to look over her shoulder.

“Domenic,” said Bianca, “I know it is your job to answer any orders from Donovan, but do me this one favor? Until he is well, please, do not let him drink any liquor. In the state he is in, I do not think such an intoxicating beverage will remedy anything.”

And that was that. With a click the door opened, Bianca escorting Donovan out of the room and into the hall. Skirts swayed as the two slowly made their way toward Donovan’s privy rooms. As they walked Bianca would steal glances of Donovan from the corners of her eyes. Their hips would brush, Bianca’s heart beating swiftly in her chest -- oh, she enjoyed this closeness to Donovan, very much so.

Finally, the two reached the Advisor’s private rooms, the dark exotic beauty not releasing her hold around Donovan until he was through the door. “One moment, Donovan, I just need to request for something.”

She smiled radiantly, leaning her body out the ajar door. Bianca spoke with a passing servant in a hushed tone, a “Thank you.” the only words Bianca spoke loud enough for Donovan to actually hear. Noise of the halls were blocked out once Bianca closed that barrier to the outside, fingers toying with the lock. CLICK!

“I hope you are hungry, Donovan, I took the liberty of sending an order to the kitchen.” Slowly she strode over to the dark haired advisor, her hands raising to the buttons of his upper clothing. Bianca began unbuttoning the fronts of his shirts, the same radiant smile painted upon her lush pink lips, “But before you eat, I ordered a bath for you. A warm bath will do you good,” her eyes glancing over the naked skin of his chest that slowly was revealed.

Tidus came back down a sturdy looking bag with a long strap draped across his chest to rest at his side as he came back down to see the Inspector again, "I am ready if you are sir... as for other matters that i should attend to they will be fine until I return. The others in this house are very able and seeing as we are in a rather tough spot now the others will gather the slack." he nodded and glanced up and chuckled a little before he looked to the door and the Inspector.

Looking around elsewhere he frowned a little not knowing where certain other members of the household were. They should definately be around in a time like this but with a shrug Tidus brushed that aside, "So how far has this news traveled Inspector? Can we be expecting many visitors, with half sincere condolences... especially from those who are looking to take over here?"

Donovan was escorted from the room. The man was relieved to get clear of the inspector and away from his manifestation of formality—away from a scene of inestimable disclosure. Bianca was with him, and Donovan felt comfortable knowing she was by his side. Dimly in his mind he knew both Tidus and Bianca were vital given their assessment of him. It wasn’t an easy admission by any means, but it registered that he indeed needed rest, and events recently had been taking their toll on him.

If there was someone he’d rather be with at this time, it was Bianca.

Donovan had opened to her over the course of the last few months, and his feelings for her had grown. He was in love with her. But he wasn’t quite sure how she felt. Nor had he as yet plucked up the courage to ask her or reveal his feelings on the matter. Now, she led him through the quiet halls—quiet, because a veil of solemn unease had swept through the house. The walls were thin. News travelled fast. Donovan didn’t really seem to witness his surroundings: the touch of the woman by his side, the sight of her beauty, her subtle whispering to the maid. Their passage seemed to him a momentary thing, a fleeting moment; a flash of an uncertain maid or a quivering noble. Before he knew it they were in his room and she was undressing him. He felt slightly powerless, but he was aware of her hands unbuttoning his shirt, caressing his skin.

He did not resist. His eyes focussed on her and he smiled slightly. She was looking after him. He showed his appreciation by gently stroking her cheek. Her skin felt cool; felt good. He sighed contentedly.

The final button was undone, the opening in his shirts pushed further to the sides. Bianca affectionately nuzzled her cheek into the palm of Donovan’s caressing hand, her own hand finding it’s place against the softness of Donovan’s bare chest. Slowly Bianca’s hand trailed up and down, tips of her fingers circling about his belly button. “Donovan. . .” she said with a voice as sweet as aristocrat crème, her unoccupied hand lifting to cup over his own, lips placing a gentle kiss upon his palm. With the swish of fabric, Bianca had succeeded in removing Donovan’s shirt, pushing it down his arms and letting it float to the ground. Pounding of her heart sounded like festival drums in her ears, cheeks burning with color, hues of green-gray inspecting over Donovan before they lifted their gaze to look him directly in the eyes. The shirt would not be the last piece of clothing to be shed, the midnight haired beauty began to work on the fastenings of his pants. She tried to maintain a steady rhythm of breathing, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled, intakes and releases of air starting to gain a bit of a shutter. “Donovan. . .” Bianca said his name again, fingers tauntingly trailing along the rim of his pants, “I. . .” she seemed to have trouble talking, her head craned forward a little. A teasing kiss was placed on his collar bone, her teeth dragging against his skin.
“I. . . Have to go see if your bath is ready.” Bianca took a step back, preparing to turn her back and go to the bedroom door.

Beneath her touch and affection, Donovan felt his soul surrender. Anxieties slipped away, pressures eased, and concerns dispersed like clouds. It all drained away beneath her subtle touch, her sweet caress. He was soon mesmerised by her, gazing deeply into her beautiful green eyes. Her touch left in its wake a tingling of his skin. His heart was beating faster. Donovan had surfaced from the pool of despair and now her sun shone upon him. A wild, lopsided grin lit his features, a rare sight.

Her contributing kiss was cool and gentle. His brown eyes flashed with pleasure. Donovan felt virile and masculine beneath her submissive, fluttering gaze. He felt himself lengthening. She would know as she unfastened his pants. A sudden longing to take her in his arms and succeed her took him, but then she was moving, moving back; moving away from him.

His eyes watched her movement, and he suddenly panicked and back-pedalled. Fighting through a multitude of emotions in that moment, almost without rationale, he wondered if this the moment for him to declare his intention, of was she just looking after him? He didn’t want to abuse the situation or her deeds of compassion. “Bianca . . . ?” he whispered, almost vacantly.

Bianca paused before the door, a hand raising to her chest to still the beating of her heart. Oh, she loved hearing him speak her name, even if in a breathless whisper. A heat was pulsating through her being, this new sensation an unfamiliar elation. A voice in her head was cursing her constantly for putting a small distance between herself and Donovan, almost every inch of her body, every cell of skin was crying out for Donovan’s touch and attention. His scent still lingered in her nostrils, that musky aroma arousing new things within her, nipples behind the fabric of her upper apparel hardening. Feelings that were gripping at her were absolutely wild! Since the moment she had first laid eyes on her darling, dark haired advisor, she knew he had stolen her heart. Emotions and temptations welled up inside her, late night fantasies and heated dreams haunting her during the night.

Beneath her hand her heart was pounding, tingling sensations tickling at her lips from the touch of Donovan’s skin. Oh, she wanted more of it, she wanted it again and again, over and over until the end of her days. Bianca’s jaw clenched, her throat barren of any noise or any muster of speech. She was robbed of words! Her hand slid from her heart, down, and over the swell of her left breast, bare skin of the ample mound so soft, the cleavage low and taunting. In her fantasies and dreams she had imagined what it would feel if Donovan would touch her, touch her as a man would touch a woman. She wanted his lusty caress, oh, how she did!

Then, suddenly, there was a rapping at the door. Bianca released a shuddering breath and raised a trembling hand to unlock the large, wooden barrier. Skirts swayed about her legs as she opened the door, two young servant boys carrying in the large, metallic tub. While the two boys carried in bucket after bucket of steaming water, Bianca raised her eyes of green to look at Donovan. There he stood, chest, stomach, shoulders and back bare. He was like Adonis from the mythological stories she read during her schooling. Teeth of white gently bit down onto the lushness of her bottom lip, chest rising and falling, swell of her breasts pressing against their captivity. With the final swoosh, the final emptying of a pale, the two servant boys were out and on there way. The door had almost slammed with the force Bianca applied to it when she closed it, the lock being pulled over, the sanctuary of Donovan’s room once again theirs.

Steam raised from the water in the tub, “Finish undressing.” she said, greens eyes watching Donovan intently.

At the knock on the door, Donovan stepped hesitantly back. He was semi-naked but the young boys in general ignored him. News had by now permeated the household that Harvold was dead, and their faces were pale and stony. They attended their business without question, complaint, or—moreover—a cocked-eyebrow.

Donovan silently undressed, unfastening and slipping his black trousers off, then his socks, and finally his pair of white pants. He did not remove his eyes from Bianca as he did so. He had been fighting with his emotions, but now he read in her eyes and posture and whispered words a longing akin his own. Beneath her gaze he knew his love for her was paramount, and he could in truth no longer contain it. Dimly, it registered in his mind it had been a strange day.

“I love you,” he whispered, standing naked before her. And so he had declared his love for her, on the very day news had come of Harvold’s death. And so he stepped toward her, to take her in his arms . . .

She had seen undressed men before, nude Greek statues, nude men in paintings -- but never one right before her. Bianca studied him just as he studied her, eyes looking over the naked magnificence of Donovan’s figure.

His whispered words echoed through the inners of her mind with the volume of a shout. Bianca took a sharp intake of breath, gasping. Donovan’s declaration fed the fire within the youngest paintress -- it seemed lesser then a quick moment, Bianca voluntarily moving into Donovan’s embrace. “I have waited so long!” she whispered joyously, “Waited so long for you to show you loved me, too.” her fingers tangled themselves into the locks of his dark mane. To the tips of her toes she went, softness of her lips brushing the lobe of his ear, teeth tugging at the dangling jewelry. “Take me,” she whispered softly, “Donovan, take me into your bed!” she adorned his jaw line with kisses, then taking his mouth with a deep, hungry kiss. Tangled fingers combed through his hair, length of her arms snaking around his neck, lushness of her lady curves pressing against Donovan.

(edited by The Silverlord, with ratings)

The inspector let Domenic usher him to the exit of the grand manor. Farishel then nodded curtly, and stepped onto the gravel chip path, where a small horse-drawn carriage waited. It was a crude looking box, and an unlit navy lantern dangled over the driver’s left shoulder, the word “Police” emblazoned upon it in white lettering.

Farishel stepped toward the driver, engaging in discussion while waiting for Tidus. “Waiting now for one young man to come and verify the body,” he intoned.

“How did they take it?” asked the driver.

“Not very well. The Lady Dilysnia was not in attendance however.”

“They will be suspicious of his death.”

“I know, but what can we do at this time? Our hands are tied Jacques. We will have to hope their house privately investigates his death. This young man I spoke of seems eager to probe.”

Tidus Took a stop by Donovan's room pressing an ear to the door. It was quiet... and rightly so. He nodded and strode off down the hallway, "It's about time he had some rest... no matter how it came about." he chuckled softly and shook his head.

He moved quickly down the stairs and out the front doors he was eager to learn the truth. There were ways of confirming the body, even determining the cause of death. The old man who had taught him everything he knew made sure to endow him with all the knowledge he could before they parted company. It was strange he thought of old Zephir at this point in time. Perhaps he wondered if his very much loved mentor was dead. He was far older that Harvold had been. He shook his head quickly dismissing the dark thoughts as he approached the carriage. Looking up he smiled and nodded a greeting to the driver, "Is everything in order Inspector?"

He patted the bag he carried in a hand, "I've got everything I need. So if you are ready we can be off and I can do what I do best." he nodded curtly glancing between the Inspector and the driver raising a brow a little. He had that awkward feeling of someone having just walked in on a conversation about himself, that seemed to send an ill quiver down his spine. What had they been discussing? Perhaps the inspector knew more about the situation than he let on? Perhaps in time these questions too would have answers. But it was time for a more pressing answer to be obtained.