The Art of Flattery

Posted on Fri Jul 3rd, 2026 @ 7:37am by Caeda & Crown Prince Paolo Orsini

Mission: Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: Royal Palace
Timeline: Date 2372-03-26 at 1030
1400 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

The sound of raucous, boyish laughter was unfamiliar to the Royal Palace. The Royal Family was trained to always be reserved and mysterious, and the protocols for social behavior always kept everyone else in check. The swell of noise coming from the grand hallways was a highly irregular beast, the symbol of an attitude many minds find unwelcome. Five men walked the parquet floor, Paolo and four others with noble blood, but small names. Each of them wore clothes that revealed the athletic build of their bodies, and each of them had a wet look about them like they’d been caught in the rain and had only just changed clothes.

It was the blonde-haired young man who spotted the lady in waiting first standing in the middle of the hall staring at a beautiful painting high on the tall wall. He whispered to the others, and smiled as quiet retorts rippled through the group. Paolo said nothing; he remembered this one.

“Good morning, my lady. Are you lost.” A dark haired man said, grinning toward her with a confidence bordering on cockiness.

“No.” She replied without even looking over to the group immediately and instead kept her eyes on the painting. She was dressed in a simple lavender blouson dress with a low v-neck that showed off her cleavage paired with a darker purple short heel. After another beat, she turned her pretty face toward the group and immediately honed in on the dark haired man who had stepped toward to speak. She smiled at him and spoke again.

“I was just wondering about this painting. I-“ She stopped then abruptly, her eyes falling on Paolo. Immediately, she curtsied gracefully to him. “Imperial Highness.”

“My Lady.” Paolo said, his eyes going to the presentation of her breasts in a way they simply wouldn’t have before. It was something he was truly starting to notice, and whatever was going on with him seemed to accelerate and inflame the natural process of becoming a man. There was an unrestrained interest in his deep brown eyes, though his face remained reserved and appropriate. “That painting is a creation of Giacomo Balla, official painter of the court of Antonius I. It’s inspired by the beauty of the new empire.”

Paolo stepped forward a few steps, his gait confident, and his eyes falling on the grand painting as he took up a position next to her. There was something decidedly infancy about his hair and dress, but he hardly seemed to care.

The painting was of a majestic eagle, its wings splayed out over the world, a deep red shadow enveloping everything it touched, covering them in the dark glow of its command.

“It’s beautiful, it is not..” he paused, looking over at her and lingering on her face, “Sorry, I don’t recall your name.”

“Thora Nielsen.” She provided without looking at him, her eyes returning to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t the first thing that comes to my mind when I look at it, but it is beautiful in a way, yes.”

She turned her head to him then, her eyes roaming his face slowly with interest, admiration, and something more that perhaps he wouldn’t exactly understand with words, but by the feeling it stirred.

“Powerful is what comes to mind first.” She spoke the first word meaningfully, reflecting the feeling she had given it while looking into his eyes and perhaps seeming to extend the same adjective to him.

“There was a time, in the Empire, where they would have seen no difference at all between beauty and power.” He responded, his words erudite and intellectual, but his eyes meeting hers and catching the hint of something else smoldering there. His hormones surged, but beyond a softening of his own eyes, it was hard to see. “Things have changed, but recently I've started to believe that power is the ultimate form of beauty. At least, that is, until I speak with someone like you.”

Paolo smiled, and the guys he'd walked with grinned and nudged each other in the background, each delighting in the sudden bold claim from the once reserved prince.

Thora demurred immediately, a soft pink blush appearing on her pale cheeks. She brushed a strand of her dark hair back behind her ear and averted her gaze, but only for a moment. Slowly her eyes came back up to meet his; there was a boldness to the gesture, but her gaze was reserved. Perhaps this would be easier than anyone had anticipated it being. “You’re too kind, Highness.”

“I’ve not been so nice recently, actually.” Paolo admitted, a certain callousness in his tone that didn't quite reach the center. He loved kindness, but had started to seriously think of it as more of a liability than an asset. His tone was nonchalant, no hint of people pleasing in his face or tone. “But in this case, I’m only speaking an obvious truth. It’s as if I said the sky is blue or that the sun rises in the east. Don’t give me credit too quickly. Everyone else always does.”

“I’m beautiful, of course.” Thora pointed out with a smile. “But beautiful enough to influence the thoughts of a man? I doubt that.”

“You’re terribly mistaken.” Paolo responded with a smile, turning to the blonde who had addressed her first. He was taller and stronger than Paolo, yet was still quite obviously his follower. “Tu vois? Pierre a une érection en ce moment.”

The guys, including Pierre, burst into laughter, Paolo didn't laugh with them, but gave a slight upturn to the corners of his mouth. Crassness wasn't princely at all, and he wasn’t feeling like a prince.

“Well… perhaps the thoughts of a man’s secondary brain.” Thora replied, her eyes following Paolo’s. She smirked just slightly then. “Or perhaps the primary brain for some…”

“One can almost never tell which is which.” Paolo said, scanning her with his gaze before making the choice to look away. His eyes landed on the painting again. “Some day, my Empire will stretch across the Galaxy. I’m certain. Both my brains tell me so. And that is what this painting represents for me.”

Thora giggled softly at his comment, but looked back at the painting all the same. “It will take strong emperors to see that done, and I certainly think we have that, present and future, if it is not too bold for me to say, Highness.”

“A flatterer. What a surprise.” Paolo said. He didn’t seem offended. I'm the slightest. If anything, he sounded bored. “I am strong. And a genius. Oh, and don’t forget the most handsome young man in this hallway.”

The guys he had come with started to snicker again. Far from laughing buffoons, they seemed to relish his dry sarcasm. It was certainly a new form of comedy for him.

“You aren’t a genius, but you are smart.” Thora pointed out, then turned to his friends. She pointed at a tall dark skinned boy at the back. “You’re strong, but he’s stronger. You being the most handsome young man in the hallway is completely subjective.” She smiled at him, then shook her head. “You flatter me, I flatter you. Did you expect something different?”

Paolo looked at her, his face almost grinning.

“Yes.” He said simply. “We’ve got a sparring session to get to. I…look forward to hearing more of your candor some other time.”

“Highness.” Thora curtsied to him again, but as she raised herself, she leaned in to whisper to him. “You should work on your arms more. I like strong arms.”

With that, she pulled back and gave him a quick, playful wink.

“I’m engaged…but I feel the same way about tits.” He said, a grin gracing his face before he forced it away in a masculine nod that managed to be surprisingly smooth. “My Lady.” He said louder, and then led the other young men away.

The sound of her laughter followed him, and she watched the group walk away. After a moment, she turned to walk the opposite way herself. She’d been waiting there forever, it felt like, and though the encounter was brief it had seemed to be productive enough. He was certainly interested.

END