The bachelor pad of sorts that Theowyn lives in has that broad area at center just after the bedroom section that was specific to Theowyn's training. The First Prince did not always being stared at and examined when practising in the sword and other weapons, so this area became as a practise area for him when he wishes to be alone. Even in the middle of this night, the curtains swinging wildly against the summer-night wind, the huffs and heavy breathing can be heard as Theowyn moves from sword form to sword form. The sound of a blade passing through the air is unmet by an object, yet clearly swooshes and zings through the night. Theowyn's feet shuffle in the dance that is an asset to his sword training, moving through the forms with the skills of a well trained Warder.

A bit more used to the interior of the secret passage than she had been, Elyse meanders down it slowly, but not as slowly. Her hand moves along one wall to guide her. As she nears the door to Theowyn's closet, she slows, listening for a time to the sounds within his chambers, before tentatively reaching for the closet door, and opening it slowly. Her hands begin to blindly sift through the suits as she works to find her way out, not yet announcing herself to him, oddly. Should he see her expression as she reveals herself from the closet, it is speculative and pensive.

Theowyn does begin to grunt and intake air heavily as the sword thrusts and slashes forward in less 'pretty' and more 'targetted' motions of the blade. There is very little pause between moves, and so as Elyse makes her way into his chambers, Theowyn does not initial hear her. Not with the blade swooshing through the air, his muscles swelling from the force of the strokes of his sword. Dandelion in the Wind, Stones Falling From the Cliff, Striking the Spark, Parting the Silk. Each move is well woven into the next, until the further disturbance of clothing causes a pause. He turns in the direction of the closet, though it is not immidiately within his sights. Theowyn moves in that direction. "Elyse?"

"Yes," comes an answer in an odd, strained tone. Then Elyse finally emerges fully, straightening and bit an forcing a poised, dignified demeanour after having just performed some small feat for her, physically. She lifts her chin a bit, and manages a small smile, though it is distant, distracted--perhaps even could be taken as a cool smile, lacking a bit of her usual warmth. She remains where she stands by the closet, though, allowing Theowyn to come to her instead of potentially fumbling around blindly further, "I'm sorry if I am intruding, My Prince?" She smoothes her nightrobe down a bit, her head tilted in the direction of the Prince's approach.

The sword comes to its rest leaning against a wall and a dresser, as Theowyn makes his approach. "Forgive me Princess, I had planned on taking a bath before taking any visitors." There is a teasing tone in his voice, contrasting her own cooled expression. Theowyn does take a towel to sling over his naked shoulder, and moves to take Elyse by the hand. When his hot flesh touches on her, Theowyn leans forward to brush his lips lightly against her cheek. "My Princess..." he takes a wanting breath of air, pleasantly surprised of her arrival. "Something is the matter, I take it?" he asks next, coming to reality of the situation.

Elyse doesn't shrink back from the caress, especially as she can't see it coming. Her distracted smile fades a bit though, and she swallows, struggling with something inwardly. She dips her head respectully, "I can return anon, my Prince, should you desire to bathe now. I wish no imposition." Despite the natural musical lilt to her soprano trained voice, the tone is subdued, almost grim, "The matter is nothing that cannot wait until I meet with you anon, if that is your preference." She is easily lead by the Prince by her hand, to a location of his choosing. And with his flesh caressing hers, she swallows again. Goosebumps appearing where her soft, smooth flesh is visible.

"Princess, of course not," Theowyn quickly declines this offer to come back another time, leading Elyse to the bed where he guides her down. "I will clean myself with a towel as you tell me what is the matter?" In truth, Theowyn is rather bothered by many issues, but her distress seems to greatly affect him. The place of his guidance would have her facing the bathtub which is already filled with water. He doesn't instantly move that way, however, instead brushing his fingers across her cheek, a smile of reassurance showing in his lips and tone. "I hope it is nothing serious? Not that any matter could be light in these times."

Elyse eases herself down to sit on the edge of the Prince's bed, listening a lengthy moment before nodding soberly, though there is a small wince at the last comment and a soft sigh. She straightens, lifting her chin and calls to mind the real reason she is here, not the matter that has her mind preoccupied, "I have an offer of service I would like to extend to you and your sister, my Prince. It is in regards to the recent suggestion of an imposter of the Queen in Caemlyn. But I dare not suggest it without your consent. You, afterall, know your sister perhaps better than her own Gaidin, Theowyn." There, she used his first name, finally.

Theowyn does step away, and she can hear the towel being dipped into the bath as he begins to wash himself casually with the wet cloth. "An offer? This does sound serious," Theowyn confirms his earlier statement, watching Elyse from a distance. "Please, go on."

Elyse draws in a deep breath, and her cool demeanour fades to something more professional. Not warm, yet, but not quite as distracted before either, as her mind begins working on her suggestion, "If I were to, with her permission of course, study Her Majesty's regal countenance each evening, commit the feel to memory, it would perhaps help thwart another instance of the unfairly stocked subject. If Her Majesty exhibits behaviour that is unlike her, and agrees from the beginning that I be permitted to test her countenance for features that can be disguised cosmetically, though never structurally, then it may serve as a method to determine which is the imposter Queen, and which is not. Of course, she may be reluctant to agree to anything that could question her judgment, if indeed, a test determines that it is indeed Her Majesty," she frowns then, shaking her head, "I fear I have not explained myself adequately, forgive me." Her voice softens, growing a smidge sad.

Theowyn might night see it at first, as he's scrubbing himself a little clean. The wet towel is dropped off to one side, and he grabs another to begin drying himself off. The wash is quick. "That could actually work. Make-up can be used to cover features and express features, but certainly the faces can not be identical by touch. You can sense it that closely?"

Elyse nods once, replying, "It was something I played at as a child, honestly," her voice remaining soft, but professional, "To try and see if I could pick out one friend from another, or a sibling. But in truth, it has been some time since I last played the game, and I suggest, that if it is agreed upon, that I be permitted to study Her Majesties features once each night, and to wit, the less people know of it, the less likely the imposter will make herself available to my studies instead of your sister, complicating and confusing my judgment more--something that would, I'm sure you know, be disasterous. It would have to be handled delicately, my Prince, which is why I bring it to you directly, and have not mentioned the suggestion to anyone else."

The foot-steps can be heard as Theowyn makes his approach, still likely giving the matter some consideration. "I do not think studying her features at night would be the issue, as I am certain an imposter would not dare enter her quarters and risk being caught when Aislynn does. Though, certainly for events that you both attend, something of the sort could be done in private." Theowyn's fingers brush across your cheek, as he stands just within that arm's length. "Thank-you Princess. It is a wonderful idea."

Elyse closes her sightless eyes and seems to sag at the caress of your fingers. Through all this she has been so tense, so on edge. She lets out a long sigh and nods, still with her lids closed, "Think nothing on't, my Prince. I yield to your discretion, and humbly offer the idea." Her balance as she sits, seems to waver but a bit, and as her hand lifts to your caressing fingers, attempting to grasp at them, "Theowyn," she whispers, "There is something else," injury marking her tone.

"Go on, my love?" Theowyn questions, taking a step closer to her so that he could better caress her cheek. With the motion of her hand, he does move his fingers in between her own to grasp warmly. "You are still tense," he notes the obvious, the other hand moving to her shoulder.

Elyse intakes a breath before beginning, "Rumors . . . " she opens her eyelids to reveal that same vacant deep blue gaze, " . . . rumors have reached my ears that are a bit distressing." She lifts her chin a bit, trying to retain her regal dignity, though her tone is soft, "I am told that some of your guardsmen witnessed you in the Gardens with another woman." As long as its taken for the rumors to find their way to Elyse, its no wonder she is reacting so badly to something that was likely more innocent than the exaggerated gossip has made the incident--and that's also likely why she doesn't go into an account of what those rumors say Theowyn was doing with that woman. She clears her throat, "All you have to do, my Love," her voice tender, "is deny these for lies. Just claim them as falsehoods and I will believe your word to me." She falls silent then, waiting with a withheld breath for the Prince's answer.

The initial reaction is for Theowyn's features to stiffin. With a hand holding her own and another on her shoulder, the silent shudder would likely be felt. "There is something I need to tell you," he agrees quietly, though after some pause. "Though I will not even wish to hear what you heard in gossip, there is a matter of a woman that we need to discuss." The voice is not reaching for her, it might be a touch cold, though there is a reassuring squeeze of Elyse's shoulder as he considers his next words. The pause is lengthy.

All Elyse wanted to hear was a denial, anything more than that would mean that there is some basis of truth in the rumor, and Theowyn's words seem to confirm it. She flinches away from the reassuring squeeze of her shoulder, appearing as if she had been visibly struck. She does not weep, or grow irate, however. She remains where she is seated, giving the man she loves, the man she wants to one day call husband, the benefit of speaking his peace. Internally, her stomach is in knots over the whole mess, and she wars between wanting to sick up, and wanting to leave. She does not interrupt the lengthy pause.

"A woman from my past that I once loved made her return. She surprised me in the gardens," Theowyn's words finally come out, not using any trickery, just the honest truth in that regard. "We were tight, we carried on affairs for about a year. And then she left for the Blight, where she battled what she could find. There reasons for her leaving were difficult, not by either of our choices, but it was a choice she made to protect me of others of contraversy." Theowyn takes a deep breath, attempting to stroke her closer with the movements of his hand against her shoulder, leaning forward and against the post of the bed. He takes a deep breath, the strain showing. "Some emotions came flooding back, ones I thought were long gone, when she appeared. But that was the past. And you are my future. I had a difficulty handling her return that day, but I have not seen her since."

Elyse nods once as she accepts his answer, folding her hands neatly in her lap. She no longer flinches away as Theowyn moves to touch her, but neither does she embrace it. She swallows visibly, her eyelids falling closed once more. There is an equally lengthy pause and Elyse asks once, her whisper of a voice quivering, "Do you still love her?"

Theowyn takes a deep breath, going on to the questione he knows now he would need to answer. And indeed, he did plan to tell her, but when he was less confused on the matter. "She asked me that very question," Theowyn begins to answer this, again offering a light squeeze of reassurance. "I could not answer her that evening, those feelings of the past emerging for me to be faced with. I care for her, I do. Her and I have shared a year of our lives. I certainly care for her, but you are the woman I love. It has been difficult, it has not been easy being faced with this, but when I saw you next I wished to marry you. To be with you."

Elyse lets out a long breath she had not fully realized she had been holding. "I know the timing of my asking you this was poor. But," she lifts her head, turning her lips to cast her voice more towards the Prince standing there, "I had to ask. I had to know." There is still uncertainty there, in her tone, in her demeanour, but the tension seems to be fading as his response to her confronting him on this seems to be absorbed, perhaps even accepted, but slowly. She remains seated right now, not wanting to trust her knees with the weight of her standing.

"I was still sorting matters out," Theowyn explains quietly. "This High Court has not helped in the matter." Another long breath is taken, as he moves to sit beside Elyse on the bed, with his arm moving around her back to take at the opposite shoulder. "I should have known better then to have your mind filled with gossip. It was a matter I should have addressed earlier, I'm sorry my love."

The tone of the Princess is flat, "In the Borderlands, its not unheard of to take on a Mistress, though it is well-kept as a secret and frowned upon. In learning the ways of politics and intercultural relations, I became increasingly aware of the casual attitude the southern nations seem to have with regards to a lover in addition to a wife, though I had thought Andor's culture did not subscribe to it as readily as Cairhien, Altara, or Tear." Her lithe form sags into the Prince's embrace as the Prince places his arm around her, she seems in part reluctant to yeild, and in part yearning for him to hold her. The internal war evident briefly in her features before her hands move to rub her face, as if washing it all away with a brush of her hands, then tehy lower back to her lap, folding limply there. Her tone is apologetic, "I'm sure you are busy with the affairs of High Court, my Prince. Perhaps I should retire." Though she seems reluctant to leave your side, there is a need evident in her voice, and a hesitation for further imposition.

That familiar touch on her cheek comes next, as Theowyn faces the woman he loves. His head rests against her own, as he continues to urge her further into his embrace with slow and unhurried guidance. "Andorans are the prudes of the nations, my love. We do not treat affairs or relationships casually. I've been to Cairhien, at least, knowing how bad it can get. Andor is nothing of the sort, you can be assured." There's a hopeful tone in his voice, and slightly poking at the next. "What other culture would inforce a year and day engagement period to insure the couple will not risk an early pregnancy and be found out?" he asks next, as he brushes away curls of her hair back, moving closer to her.

Elyse goes so far as to lean against him as he moves closer, and gives a small smile and soft laugh, "Prudes, my Love?" her guard lowering, the tension leaving her voice, "You've not been to court in Saldaea, I trust. The acceptable attire there is even more conservative than your own Andor's." She gives a small wave of her hand, "No matter." A lengthy pause, "I believe you, Darling," her voice a soft whisper, "I trust you." Her hand reaches over, an attempt to find his, "I was . . . injured, to be sure. But my love for you goes deeper than something a mere rumor could slice through." There is a sudden flash of doubt that reappears in her features before she schools it gone. "I hope Uncle does not learn of it as I have, however."

"It simple gossip," Theowyn explains quietly, shaking his head lightly. "I will not endanger losing you as my wife, Elyse. Love." He does move to kiss her then, even if it but the slight brush of their lips.

Elyse leans to receive the kiss, and at first, it is tender, even a bit awkward, before the Kandori Princess moves to reach for Theowyn more tightly, pressing herself further against him if she can, and daring to part her lips in the more intimate and passionate kiss for the man she loves.

The kiss does indeed deepend, Theowyn reacting harder into the kiss with Elyse's urging for more. His hand slips from her cheek and once again comes across to her shoulder, urging her body to turn to him as his lips part further. Theowyn's tongue begins to swirl against her own, his passion well felt and stronger, more needing to insure Elyse knows of his love.

Moving with his direction, and her own motivation and initiation, Elyse lowers with him to the bed, lying on top of him, her hands beginning to roam across the skin of his torso as she immodestly continues the passionate kiss. Her need to have him demonstrate his love rivalling his need to demonstrate it. Her tongue slides past her opened lips, seeking to perform that favorite dance with his own. Her breaths become short gasps of air through her nose, and her swift beating heart can be felt through the thin silk gown and robe, from her breasts that press so firmly against Theowyns.

Theowyn doesn't argue the urgings of Elyse, his hand moving through the robe as she moves over-top, urging her over his body as he continues the kiss. His other hand is already rested at her hip, lightly guiding her body against his own as the kiss grows in the need, in the want and lust, and love.

The Princess doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. In fact, she may permit her innocence to be taken this very eve. As credit to this notion, her nipples demonstrate her arousal as they press against Theowyn's chest, and her robe slips away from her shoulders, taking with it both straps of her nightgown, revealing the soft, smooth flesh of her shoulders, and a great deal more cleavage. Her passionate kissing doesn't let up either, only pauses for her to gasp, "Oh, Theowyn, I love you . . . " and then resumes the deep kiss once more, her lithe form writhing a bit against Theowyn's muscled one. But that all stops short as a knock comes to Theowyn's door. The Princess tenses, parting her lips from the Prince's, her bosom heaving with exhursion, and want of breath.

Theowyn's head lifts up at the knocking on his chambers door, his eyes though unable to lift from the revealed flesh. He continues to hold her tightly against his body, though his chest lifts in a heavy breath before he asks, "Who is disturbing me this late in the evening?" he asks, the tone sounding a bit unpleased.