Tyru Remake

Brief Context:

The Retisant family hold the throne of the French Monarchy, with Tyson Retisant as heir following the death of his father. However, Tyson's uncle, Alexandre, managed to claim the throne in his stead, and now rules France with an iron fist.

Koaru Tatsuyuri was taken in my the Retisant family as a child, and has just returned from training in order to serve Tyson as a butler. Together the pair must face all the struggles and challenges of Aristocracy, holding high the Retisant name.


Name: Tyson Retisant ((Ty))

Age: 23 Years

Appearance: Tyson has long, straight black hair that he keeps tied in a braid down his back, stretching almost to his shoulder blades. His face is casually framed by shorter, loose strands, falling in layers from just above his eyebrows to below his chin. He has a stocky build, and is slightly shorter than most men his age (and younger). He has high, proud cheekbones and a naturally rich, caramel complexion. His eyes, though mainly downcast, are a bright, fiery shade of brown - seeming almost red when the sun strikes them. He generally stands with a somewhat aloof and disinterested stance, often making himself appear unapproachable.

Personality: To sum Tyson up in a sentence, he simply doesn't care. He doesn't care about the Aristocracy, or the many rules he was taught by his Uncle, or the many expectations weighing on him as the heir to the throne. He's always aloof and quiet, and tends to avoid, well, everybody.
On the rare occasion that Tyson is close to somebody he is always loyal and surprisingly protective at times, though he very seldom shows affection. He tends to ignore even those close to him, with very few exceptions.

The new butler was arriving today. Tyson had been told as much, but he was not looking forward to the meeting. He had told Gerard (that was his Uncle's advisor) that he had neither need of, nor interest in having yet another foolish klutz serve under him. It was a nuisance of the highest order; the way his shirts were ironed, his socks laid out, his bed made. He was particular about his needs, and not one of the butlers who had served him had ever fulfilled those needs correctly. Perhaps the fault was not in their incompetence, though, but in his own insatiability. He embraced this, and yet, it was not a trait that he was willing to improve on. If he knew how he liked things done, then why, in God's name, could he not just do them himself? He had never understood how appearing completely helpless, like he needed everything to be done for him, could create the 'image' that his Uncle was so desperate to uphold.

Sighing heavily, Tyson clicked his tongue in annoyance and strolled across the room. The maid had pulled his curtains back. He loathed open curtains. He yanked them free, and as he released them, the heavy velvet wings fell together, flapping a whoosh of darkness over the room. Now, Tyson could turn his back to the window in confidence. It was time to head down to the foyer to meet the new butler; he could already hear the telltale signs of the large castle doors creaking open downstairs. Any moment now, Gerard would be up to fetch him. Straightening the collar of his beige, ruffled shirt, Tyson cast a disapproving glance at his tie, then wrinkled his nose and pulled it around his neck, his fingers tucking the tails of it into an elegant bow. The mahogany shade was flattering to his skintone, but he loathed it just the same. It choked him and choked him, and the pointed toes of his shoes were far too tight. It hardly seemed worth dressing for this. But, alas, he could already hear the head butler speaking to this 'newbie'. Time to once again endure all of the airs and graces.

As he clicked his way elegantly to the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fell upon an anxious-looking, feminine figure in the middle of the grand foyer, with long hair falling to his waist, in the most remarkable shade of purple! The newcomer's build was such that Tyson could not be certain of his gender, but he had been told that the new butler was a man, and so he assumed that the information had been true. He had to admit, it was remarkable. This strange, exotic being was without a doubt the most interesting thing that Tyson had seen in a number of months. He wondered how long it would take for the poor fool to become as inherently boring as the hundreds before him. Based on past experience, Tyson would give him a week. Or until he opened his mouth.

Name: Koaru Tatsuyuri

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Race: Human (Japanese)

Occupation: Butler To The Retisant Family (Particularly Tyson)

Appearance: Japanese by Birth, Koaru retains a mysterious kind of beauty that is almost feminine, He is already quite used to being mistaken as woman. He is tall, slender and almost delicate in build, with high cheek bones an lily pale complexion. His ankle length hair is distinctly deep purple in colour and usually tied up in a long flowing ponytail.

Attire: The usual uniform of a Retisant butler. (A tailed-black blazer, white flannel shirt, black pants and polished shoes. A white Frock and white gloves with the family emblem is essential.)  

Personality and History: Orphaned at an early age, Koaru’s circumstances lead him away from his home in Japan all the way into new world of western Europe. There he was taken in by the retisant family under the sharp super vision of the Head Bulter; Harland Von Blair.

By nature Koaru has a very gentle and compassionate heart. He’d never turn a blind eye to cruelty and despite all his subtleties, its not beneath him to fight back for those he cares for. He is a loyal person with an array of perfectly practised manners. He’s utterly devoted to his position at a butler.

Weakness/ Flaw: Tends to be selfish and dishonest. Tends to be too submissive.

Today he stood once more before the great doors of the Resisant palace; a strange sense of nostalgia tickling his chest like a butterfly’s wing. It had been many years since he had left the palace, all in hopes of achieving his mark of honour; a mark that would allow him to return and serve under the retisant name.

Bowing his head politely, Koaru was greeted by an elderly gentleman, the doorman infact. A short exchange of smiles and words seemed crossed between the two men, and after holding up the sealed letter he had received from the king, Koaru was finally lead inside the building with the instructions to wait. He would be received personally by the head butler, his old master; Harland Von Blair.

Obediently he waited in the hallway. His only belongings all pressed and folded inside the small suitcase at is side. His grey eyes flickered  thoughtfully over his familiar surroundings, over paintings new and old all decked against the gold encrusted walls. He was trained to hide his anxiety, and did so behind a mask of simple contentment.
The soft tap clicked of heeled shoes soon snatched up his senses, and lifting his eyes, Koaru found himself staring curiously in the direction of his his old master, Harland Von Blair.
Their greeting was far from warm, but Koaru understood the pose of authority and strictness that needed to be upheld within the castle. The occasion was of course a formal one, one in which the king himself would even make an appearance, one to judge his capabilities as a butler to the prince.
Swallowing back his fear, Koaru bowed his head and followed Harland through the hallways into the main foyer.

Holding his head high, Koaru stepped inside the room. A trail of guards greeted him with immobility and silence, their positions laying a pathway down towards the king and prince.
Harland took the lead here, and stepping before the King, he bowed deeply in familiar greeting. “My Lords Retisant, I’d like to introduce to you both, my new underlining; Koaru Tatsuyuri. He will be filling as the new Butler to the prince”
A shy smile had tainted Koaru’s pallid lips and placing a hand elegantly across his chest, he dipped his head in perfect greeting, “It is my honour to be here serving under your name, My Lords.”

It was all Tyson could do not to roll his eyes when Harland introduced the new butler. He could see his Uncle out of the corner of his eye, looking over the newcomer as though he were judging a dog show, and this young man was some kind of prized poodle. Personally, he had never been able to muster that same look. Perhaps it was because he failed to devalue the humanity of a person. Butler or prince, what did it matter? At the end of the day, they all had two lungs and one heart, and they would all die one day just like they were born; alone, terrified, and desperately resistant to depart into the unknown. He could tie his own damn shoelaces. Why should 'Kaoru Tatsuyuri' have to do it for him in the first place?

Biting back a sigh, he folded his arms over his chest, completely unashamed of his antisocial body language, even though he knew his Uncle hated the gesture. He was honestly about to walk off, when a soft voice caught his attention.
“It is my honour to be here serving under your name, My Lords.” The new butler said, with a voice that could put a nightingale to shame with its melody. There was a sweetness in the creases around his mouth, and an elegance in the way he carefully bent every joint of every finger. So precise, so controlled, like a dancer in a ballet. There was something about him... Something magically, remarkably... familiar. Even the name, somehow, seemed to ring a bell. And yet he could not quite place it...

"We are pleased to have you serve under us, Tatsuyuri." Alexandre said, sounding - as usual - like he had a million better things to do, and that he was in a hurry to do them. "My nephew will show you to your room, and inform you of your expectations as his butler. Tyson." Alexandre nodded at him, and again Ty had to fight the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. Instead, he declined his head toward Koaru, then turned to the stairs and gestured for him to follow. They climbed in silence, and Tyson stopped abruptly when he reached the assigned room. It was opposite his own. That was a tradition of the family; for the butlers to live in close quarters, so they would always be near at hand if needed. "You can stay here." Tyson told the newcomer, plucking a key from his pocket, and dropping it into Koaru's hand from a short distance, as though he was worried he'd catch something if their skin ever brushed. "I understand that you have been hired to assist me," He murmured quietly, "But please realise that I require no assistance, and that I do not expect you to wait on me, or look after me, or answer to me in any way. Just look busy," he brushed a speck fussily off his sleeve, "and everything should work out fine. I prefer to do things my own way, and to have someone else interfering - no matter how splendid a butler I'm sure you are - will only inconvenience me. I hope that you will be quite comfortable here, and enjoy your time with us."

“You can stay here.”
With a polite nod, Koaru gratefully closed a gloved hand around the tiny brass key he had been given. “Thank you”, he murmured softly.
With an innocent, yet curious flicker of grey, Koaru dared himself at last to met Tyson’s proud gaze; It was the first time he had truly looked upon the Prince since arriving.
Now, he savoured the moment like fine wine, finding himself captivated, enchanted even by the depths of raw character hidden beneath those dark eyes. The Prince seemed possessed a presence, one that Koaru associated with intellectual strength and respect.

“I understand that you have been hired to assist me, but please realize that I require no assistance, and that I do not expect you to wait on, or look after me, or answer to me in any way...”
Koaru listened obediently to what his new master had to say. He was surprised by the Prince’s reqeast, it was uncommon for royalty, more so for a prince to want to do everything on his own.
You’re still so stubborn my old friend...but I’m glad that time hasn't taken your independence.. .I’ll still be here to help you of coarse, despite your words it is my duty and pleasure to do so. In a world like ours even the most useless of pawns can assist in obtaining one’s goals.

With a thoughtful blink of his eyes, Koaru dipped his lovely head and spoke, “I appreciate your hospitality and kindness, My Lord. Understand that my duty is to you alone. If you demand that I leave you be, then I shall do so with an easy heart...”
Raising a hand to his chest, Koaru bent forward politely,“If however you do need me... I only ask that you never hesitate to call me.”
There was strange change in Koaru’s attitude towards those last few words, a challenge that almost dared Tyson to test him, to make him prove his own worth.
“Shall I take my leave then, My Lord? ”

(Later)
Koaru seemed to settled back into his environment quite quickly, The bustling rhythm of palace clearly hadn't changed since his last visit. There were always chores to be done, preparations to be made. A secret sense of disappointment had of course begun to wane in on his mind, and behind his all his smiles he still fretted heavily over the change in Tyson. He hadn't always been that closed off, he hadn't always been that reserved.
With a tiny sigh, Koaru fiddled expertly with a teapot and it’s cups. Time had flown past and according to schedule it would be just about the right time for his master’s late tea.
With the tray perched neatly upon it’s trolley, he made his way towards Tyson’s room. With a soft knock against the sealed door, he spoke, “My Lord? I’ve brought your tea, may I come in?”

Tyson bid Koaru fairwell with a sour taste in his mouth. He had not missed the challenging little twist of his butler's tongue, but he would not let it get inside his head. Koaru would not be able to meet his requirements. Nobody else before had, and this one had been no different. And so, as was his wont, Tyson shoved the new butler out of his head as he left the castle to practice his polo game.

By the time he returned, he had acquired an infinitely fouler mood, and a brace around his right wrist. His horse had stumbled in a hole (and he would be having one very heated discussion with the servants about that one later) and his mallet had rammed against the ground as he tried to make his swing. The result, of course, was the sprained wrist that he sprouted now, and he was livid. He would need help now. He was not stupid, and he knew it well. But he was proud, and stubborn too, and for that very reason, he refused to take back his words to Koaru. He would cope on his own, somehow. Who needed a blasted butler?
I do, now.
That realisation, coupled with the sight of Koaru waiting outside his door with his tea, left Tyson in a seething rage.
"Yes, you can come in." He snapped as he pushed past the other man, unlocking the door and stepping inside, "Although I believe I instructed you not to bother with the likes of this" Sneering, he flapped a displeased hand at the tea. There was no way Koaru would get it right. His tea was what he was most particular about. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Tyson seized a cup. Might as well try it, and get this over with. He tipped it up and took a scalding sip, then froze. This was good.

Slowly, carefully, Ty reached for a saucer to put the cup down, then rethought it quickly when his injured wrist offering a twinging reminder. Instead he took another sip, savoured it a moment, then turned around and shut the door. "This is good." He told Koaru simply, neither begrudged nor hesitant as one might expect. Give credit where credit is due, he had always said. "It's been a long time since I've had Earl Gray with lemon." His piercing eyes searched Koaru's face for a moment, and again he was struck by an odd sense of nostalgia, of familiarity...
"Sit," He said, perching himself on the edge of his bed and gesturing for Koaru to do the same. "Tell me about yourself. And I'll have no more of this 'my lord' business. We're alone." He glanced to the door, "You can call me Tyson. I'm only a prince on paper anyway." He shrugged, "It's not like I actually do anything." Even if he did, he wouldn't have wanted to be treated like he was more important than anybody else. He didn't say that, though. Like it or not, he was a prince. He had to command some respect.
"Relax." He ordered quietly, "We'll be seeing a lot of each other, and I'd rather you see me as a person than a crown with legs."

As instructed, Koaru mimicked the young prince and took a seat at the edge of his bed.
He delighted secretly in the subtle praise he had received, and was pleased to find the calming effects of the tea taking its toll on his weary master. Earl Gray had always been one of Tyson’s favourite beverages, even from childhood. Koaru smiled, he could still remember the first time they had tried it. The late King, Tyson’s father; had been the one on educating them. Those were fonder days weren't they? I wish I could bring your father back Tyson...He was as much your family as he was mine.

Breaking from the daze of nostalgia, Koaru inclined his head curiously towards his handsome Lord. Tyson spoke now, his silky voice lacking in that apprehension it had previously held.
“Tell me about yourself. And I’ll have no more of this ‘My Lord’ business. We’re alone... You can call me Tyson. I’m only a Prince on paper anyway. It’s not like I actually do anything.”
Dropping the tension in his shoulders, Koaru felt his expression light up with a faint amusement, “You’ve always played a bigger part than what you’re aware of, Tyson.” There was no falsity in that statement, and Koaru’s unflinching calmness showed how firmly he believed those words.
After everything you've already done for me and the servants here in the palace, small as they may seem to you, they were things that we won’t easly forget.

Tyson seemed to consider this a moment.“We’ll be seeing a lot of each other...and I rather you see me as a person that a crown with legs.”
Koaru nodded, he understood and appreciated those words. Unlike most nobility who towered their social status and class above others, Tyson was not so. He was genuine, Deeply confident in who he was, so much so there was no need for bragging rights or displays. Koaru respected that.
“You wanted to know more about me then?...”, he mumbled kindly, grey eyes narrowing slightly with silent realization. So you don’t remember me after all?...It has been many years. With all that's happened I can’t blame you either, my old friend
With a friendly wink, the young butler added,“So where would you like me to start then, Tyson?”

'Always', he'd said. From the moment he heard it, there was a shift in Tyson's expression, as subtle as a drop of lemon squeezed into a glass of still water, and yet every bit as undeniably tart. 'Always' implied that Koaru had known him before, and knowing his own abhoration for nostalgia, he knew too that this was not an impossibility. He had felt the familiarity too, but childhood friends and faces had become foggy to him, and he had no interest in being who he had once been, or knowing who he had once known. His focus was on the future; just one more lousy phase of time that he had no power to make a difference to. His fingers tightened around the handle of the teacup.

“You wanted to know more about me then?...”
"I did." Tyson dipped his head, noticing - with a discerning frown - an altogether too confident wink flutter across the face of his new butler. Surely he had imagined that? If he hadn't, then he had to admit... He was duly impressed. This young man had a nerve stronger than the finest steel.
“So where would you like me to start then, Tyson?”
Tyson's eyes searched the man's young, feminine face, and try as he might, he could not derail a single chugging train of thought, whistling for his attention over and over a thousand times. I know him. I do. But from where? From when?
With stubborn iciness, he shoved forward a mental lever to send that train clattering off its track. He didn't want to know.
"Where to start?" He repeated, taking another sip of tea, then placing the mug elegantly down, and tracing a forefinger over his chin. "Your hair is quite unique." He nodded toward it, smiling quaintly at the superficiality of the statement. How ordinary of him. "What was it that made you decide to wear it so long. And so..." A corner of his mouth twitched just a little, "Purple?"

What a curiously ordinary question...
Ever thoughtful, Koaru threaded his fingertips through the elegant strands of purple, like a seamstress would a needle. The hair rippled beautifully beneath his pallid touch, glistening with colour as it caught the last of the evening rays.
It’s unholy length made it a hassle on the best of days, but to cut it...No, He wouldn't dare.

Furrowing those thin eyebrows in a most subtle manner, The young Butler replied cheerfully, “Old habits die hard I suppose. Back home I was never allowed to cut it, And to this day I still find myself unable to do so.”
Stealing a simple glance over those darkly sombre features, Koaru took note of the building tension etched along Tyson’s shoulder blades. You don’t trust me, do you?...that’s a wise decision. I’m not what I seem. My loyalty to you however... is absolute.
Aware Of the prince’s suspicious eyes, Koaru casually flicked his wrist and added,“As for the colour, I have no answer to that one. I’m afraid It’s as it always has been.”

Quiet for the moment, something far more worrying suddenly caught the butler’s attention. Raising his eyebrows, an expression of sharp concern suddenly dissolved upon his lips, “My Lord...Tyson, your bandages have come loose. Also That bruise hasn't been treated as it should have been.” This of course had been the result of the house attendants, few of them actually had any medical training. That being the case i guess they aren't really to blame...I should’ve been there.

Gently, Koaru traced a single finger over the blue tinged flesh. His eyes had taken on the sharpness of an eagle as he inspected the swollen wound. “The swelling needs to be brought down some more before we can bind it again. Shall I fetched some ice and an anti inflammatory?...it's not much I know, but at least it'll take away some of the discomfort”

"Hm." Tyson nodded, accepting Koaru's response without complaint. He found it difficult to believe that this man had been born with purple hair, but if that was the story he chose to stick to, then he was not going to question it. ((This character is a pompous, closed-minded prick. XD Geez, Ty. It's hair. Get over it. ))
Silence spanned between them a moment, and Ty - who had been picking absently at his bandage all the while - now lifted his hand to study his fingernails fussily. They were clean, almost freakishly so, and yet he still lived in fear of the stray speck of dirt lying in hiding beneath a pearly tip. His sharp features creased into a frown, and then he looked up as Koaru said suddenly, “My Lord... Tyson, your bandages have come loose. Also That bruise hasn't been treated as it should have been.”

"It's fine." He snapped firmly, in that same harsh, irritable tone that he always used when something almost surely wasn't fine. Koaru wisely ignored him, and took his swolled wrist gently in both hands. Tyson hissed like a wounded stray, glowering at his butler, but he did not pull away. Yes, fine! So he needed the help. What of it? Everybody needed a little help sometimes! He shushed the defensive voice in his head, basking in his own hypocrisy, and sighed his weary agreement when Koaru announced, “The swelling needs to be brought down some more before we can bind it again. Shall I fetched some ice and an anti inflammatory?...it's not much I know, but at least it'll take away some of the discomfort.”
"It's really fine." Tyson repeated automatically, without even trying to sound convincing, "But if you must, you can fetch some from the infirmary. It is a blasted pain to have a hand out of commission when there are always things to be done." He tsked his tongue, rolling his eyes, as though he honestly believed that there were important things for him to do. "I suppose that I can let you help me just for now." He muttered grudgingly, turning his proud gaze skywards, "Until my wrist heals, it would be impractical to risk sloppy attempts at menial tasks in the eyes of the public. So, Koaru... It seems your services will be required after all. My apologies for the misinformation."

“Until my wrist heals, it would be impractical to risk sloppy attempts at menial tasks in the eyes of the public. So, Koaru... It seems your services will be required after all. My apologies for the misinformation."

With a disbelieving shake of his head, and the gentlest trace of a smile, Koaru got to his feet and padded lightly towards the chamber door. His fingertips slipped over the golden handle like silk, and glancing back towards his master, he paused a moment, then added almost teasingly, “For the time being it appears as though you’re stuck with me, My Lord...Now where was I? Ah yes. Ice. I’ll be back in a moment then.”

A moment later Koaru had slipped out into the great halls of the palace. The infirmary was located just a little ways off from the kitchen area, granted you could find it in such a massive house. Naturally Koaru had no problem locating it, given his years of childhood adventuring, and within a few short minutes he had procured absolutely everything he needed in order to aid his injured Master.

Making his way back up towards the Prince’s room ,Koaru suddenly stopped in his tracks. His route had been cut off by a rather familiar presence
“Sir Harland?”, he piped curiously, “Is there something I can help you with?”
The King’s butler stared at him a moment, sharp eyes ever inspective. Pressing a letter directly into the younger butler’s palm, he then dropped his shoulders an inch and sighed,“That note is to be passed on to the Prince directly.”
Glancing down at the paper, Koaru nodded,“Thank you, I’ll ensure that he receives it then”
“It’s a list of guests that shall be attending the Ball this coming Friday. All of them are to receive invitations under his writing...many of them are potential matches for the prince. Looks like you’ll have your work cut for you Koaru.”
With an appreciative smile, Koaru tightened his hold over the letter, crumpling it slightly and politely bowed his head. If Harland’s lips could’ve mustered a smile, they would have, but instead the older man simply turned away and went about his duties. He had a very soft spot towards his old apprentice, and knew well enough how deeply the boy cared for the Prince. It came as no surprise to him that Koaru was not keen on the idea of Tyson being pressured into marriage.

A while later Koaru returned to the Prince’s chamber, with a gentle knock, he was allowed inside.
There was little time to waste, and Koaru returned diligently to the task at hand. The swelling had to be brought down first through ice; slightly dabbed along the skin. once that was done, the young butler began to rubbed an ointment over the bruised areas, before finally bandaging them up as expertly any trained nurse would.
A final inspection finally brought a grin of satisfaction to his fair lips, “That should do it. It’ll heal quicker if we treat it every day.”
Offering the prince a glass of water and the anti-inflammatory, he suddenly remembered the letter he had received. Offering a rather unreadable glance towards Tyson, he added curiously “Oh, I’ve received a letter from the King for you”

After Koaru left to fetch his ice, Tyson resumed sipping his tea with a ferociously sulky expression, scowling furiously at his injured wrist every other second, as though to ask it 'how dare you be so useless?!' When he looked like that towards any person, he expected that they'd drop to their knees and grovel at his feet. Unfortunately, his wrist could not do that. It was a wrist.
"Cursed sprained wrist." He muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose, and giving it a vindictive flick. It shot pain up his arm in retort, and Tyson resigned himself grumpily to ignoring the sharp jabs that wriggled all the way up from the swollen joint, and enduring gracefully until Koaru returned with his ice.

It took longer than expected.
"You made me wait." He snapped irritably when his butler walked in, getting to his feet to emphasize his importance. So much for 'only a prince on paper'. He didn't give a damn about his own hypocrisy. "Did you bring the ice?"
Without a word - and wisely so - Koaru hurried to his side and began tending to his injured wrist, which Tyson presented haughtily to him, as though expecting the young butler to kiss his ring. A short icing and one ointment massage later, Tyson's bandages had been rewrapped, and his temper had gone down with the swelling.
“That should do it. It’ll heal quicker if we treat it every day.”
"Hm." Ty nodded, and took the water and tablet offered to him. He tossed his head back to swallow it. Then grunted, begrudgingly, without making eye contact, "Thanks." He meant it, but he wouldn't admit that.
Koaru was too distracted to notice, Tyson realised when he cast him a glance. The young butler seemed to be thinking about something, and when he caught Tyson staring, he said with an unplaceable tone, “Oh, I’ve received a letter from the King for you.”
Rolling his eyes, Tyson held out a hand and snapped his fingers impatiently. Koaru gave him the letter, and his eyes darted quickly over it. A ball. Oh joy.
"I'm not going to this." He sneered, as if someone had run a wet feather under his nose. "I'm not some show pony for the King to parade around to please the worthless public." He sniffed. "I have no interest in these affairs. Lies and superficiality to old fashioned music that nobody really likes, that's all it is. I won't go. You can tell the King I said so."

(Short and Sweet )
With Tyson’s blatant reluctance still simmering heatedly overhead, Koaru quietly held his composure like a doll on display. He didn't look all that surprised with his master’s reaction, and if you looked carefully enough you might’ve even seen a tinge of satisfaction hidden at the corner of the butler’s mouth.
you’re right, This ball is a public display, and on your orders I’d gladly pull it apart at the seams...however things are not that simple, Tyson. You know that as well as i do, perhaps even better

With a tiny sigh, Koaru creased his lips crescent shaped. A strange kind of beauty seemed to strike those elegant features, and despite the gentleness in his voice, those Gray eyes held a deadly seriousness to them.“My Lord, If I may speak. It might be in you’re best interest to attend the ball. There are many benefits to socializing that I’m sure need no explaining...building bonds with the aristocratic families would only extend the reaches of your power”
There was another reason behind the importance of Tyson’s attendance, and Koaru knew well enough that it had nothing to do with Social standing or suitors, rather it was a problem ever more closer to home. Raising his head thoughtfully , he pressed on through slightly cautioned words, “I understand that your cousin will be attending the ball as well...it might be better for you to show face rather than have him run your family’s good name through the mud.”

"And just how would it be in my best interest? It is neither my power nor my reputation that I'm defending in any case. And as far as I'm concerned, my uncle can..." He drew in a deep breath, then spat out a sigh, mumbling the remainder of his sentence like a muted television. "I'm not going." He enunciated crisply, wrenching open a drawer under his bedside table, and yanking a leather-bound novel out by its spine. He balanced it elegantly between thumb and forefinger, pages parted, and let his eyes skim quickly from line to line; a little too quickly to really take anything in. He could still feel Koaru watching him.

There was a long silence, so long that Tyson thought he had won, until Koaru unsheathed the deadliest of his words. “I understand that your cousin will be attending the ball as well..." Ty's pupils ceased roving. The page blurred into a senseless pattern. "It might be better for you to show face, rather than have him run your family’s good name through the mud.”
Still silent, Ty's eyes started moving again, and he pretended to finish the page before he shut the book, and put it down on the table. He wasn't going to read it later. He'd lost interest several months ago, after the protagonist had risked his life to save some woman he'd just met. It had lost all fidelity then, and in novels as in people, Tyson would not tolerate an infidel.
"Please see to it that those imbeciles in dry cleaning have done no damage to my good shirts." He crossed the room with purposeful steps, and wrenched open his closet, flicking with fussy fingers through the dozens of tuxedos and smart suits hanging inside. Too old, too new, too bright, too dull, too flashy, not goddamn flashy enough... His nose wrinkled further and further with each option, until he finally came upon a lovely suit of the deepest burgundy. It stood out just enough, but with an understated silk tie, not too much. Tyson selected it, unhooking the hanger, and laid it neatly on the bed. It was never too early to start making a good impression, and he'd be damned if he left it to the last minute to teach his showoff of a cousin what true class looked like.

Tyson’s thoughts seemed to be as unreadable as ever, and it was only after the novel had been cast aside and the wardrobe assaulted, that Koaru could actually breath a sigh of relief. He knew all too well how stubborn the young Prince could be, all too well indeed.
A memory flashed before his thoughtful eyes, one of a certain baby-faced prince all dolled up and pouting before a play-date. The nostalgia left him smiling.

Rising to his feet with a certain kind of grace, he then took a few curious steps towards his master. His own interest prickled at the sight of Tyson’s outfit. It was the natural choice for such an occasion, of course. A suit, exquisite in it’s bloody colour and finely tailored to its host. The workmanship alone left Koaru awed and appreciative.
“I’ll pick up your shirts in dry cleaning at once then, My Lord”, he piped obediently. Bowing his lovely head, he then gazed up, entirely focused and determined.“I shall begin the preparations for the ball then... Beneath your orders Tyson, I ask you to command me as you please. There is no task too great.You can rely on me.”

---------------------------

After a week’s worth of preparations, musical rehearsals, food tasting, written letters and down right difficulty, the Gala of Suitors had begun.
The evening of the ball reared it’s ugly head with the arrival of it’s first few geusts; most of which were aristocratic families and their Prince besotted daughters.

Running a final glance over Tyson, Koaru adjusted his master’s tie in manner almost motherly, “You ready for this Tyson?”
There seemed to a certain assurance issued in Koaru’s tone. The butler knew that Tyson wouldn't show weakness, but if he needed support, Koaru would be there. The pair had grown slightly closer over the passed few days. The trials and stress from the preparations had really aided in improving their bond.

"Of course I'm ready." Tyson snapped in the short, irritable voice that was his usual replacement for sarcasm when a situation did not allow for it. "It's just a stupid ball. It's an inconvenience, that's all. I want it to be over."
He lifted his chin, and after Koaru had gently straightened his tie, he added grudgingly, "Thanks."
They both knew that he was nervous, no matter how much he denied it, so he was sure Koaru would forgive his rudeness. Even so...
"Irksome as it is, I must compliment you on your efforts in putting this ghastly thing together, Koaru." He said, pretending to distract himself by checking his reflection one last time in a handheld mirror. "You have actually been of some assistance to me, and that was a pleasantly unexpected surpirse." Putting the mirror away, he looked at Koaru, and from between tight lips, rewarded his butler with an actual smile. "Now I hope that you'll put your efforts into enjoying the evening. You enjoy it." He glanced back to the doors in front of him. "I will call for you if I need your assistance. Good night, Koaru."

Pushing the doors open, Tyson strode confidently into the hall, ignoring the curious looks he was sure people shot him from every side. Did he look as out of place as he felt? Was his suit the right colour? Were the ruffles on his shirt too flamboyant? Could they tell that he was sweating? Why was it so hot in this blasted hall anyway?
Furious, Tyson turned to march over to the nearest servant to complain about the lack of open windows, but before he could go very far, a beautiful young lady in an open-backed blue dress appeared before him, and flashed a dazzling smile. "Excuse me," Ty muttered, trying to squeeze around her, "I m-"
"Tyson?" His fair companion finished incorrectly for him, laying a hand on his arm. He stopped, but remained tense and impatient, still looking around for the servants. Where were they?!
"I know who you are, silly." The girl laughed, "Although I suppose you don't remember me. I'm Bianca, daughter of the Duke of Simweir. We used to play together as children."
Ty peered over her shoulder, squinting into the distance. Was that one of the butlers? No, just a guest...
"You've become quite handsome, Tyson. Would you like to dance?"
"What?" He looked at her at last, frowning distractedly, only to see a terribly affronted expression on her face. Tyson shrunk back sheepishly, and with an awkward throat-clear, amended, "Sorry, I-. Of course I'll dance with you." He grabbed her hand too quickly, feeling more flustered by the minute, then pulled her close and locked his arms stiffly around her back. Oh God, she was taller than him in those blasted heels! He couldn't be seen dancing with a giraffe! But it would be rude to-
"Koaru!" There he was, thank God, a familiar figure with purple hair, standing elegantly near the bar.
"Excuse me, Bianca." Ty said quickly, retreating backwards toward Koaru. "There is an issue with the ventilation that somebody must attend to, and I've just seen my butler. I must see to this, I'm afraid." Without waiting for a response or promising to come back, he spun around and hurried away, only stopping when he reached Koaru - frazzled and out of breath.
"I can't breathe in here." He spat at the butler, "Whose job was it to open the windows? I want them fire-" He stopped, glancing to the window beside him. It was wide open. Embarrassed, he flushed, and turned to face the bar instead. "Do you want a drink?" He asked Koaru, "I heard my Uncle speaking last week - they've imported some of the world's finest champagne." He raised a finger at the barman. "You look like you could use something to relax." ((...Sure, Ty. XD Koaru needs to relax. Sure.))

(These Characters <3)

"Now I hope that you'll put your efforts into enjoying the evening. You enjoy it. I will call for you if I need your assistance. Good night, Koaru."
Reflecting the warmth in his master’s smile, Koaru gratefully nodded,“Thank you, I shall... Good Night Tyson, and Good luck”

A minute later and the pair had been whisked up into the social banter of the ball.
The finest of ladies all looked like little cupcakes in their lavish dresses, tottering here and there with the clickety clack of their heeled shoes.
Koaru found the sight quite pleasing, even more so when their powdered faces stretched to gap and gawk at the devilishly handsome Prince of France; Tyson.

With a lady already clasped in the prince’s arms, Koaru chuckled and turned his own attention towards the bar area. He had intended to do a quick inspection of the liquor stock.
Unfortunately just as he turned his back to busy himself, an oddly familiar and slightly flustered voice fumed out from behind him.
"I can't breathe in here. Whose job was it to open the windows? I want them fire-"

Surprised to see Tyson, Koaru cocked an eyebrow dumbfoundedly. His silver-struck eyes followed after his master’s towards the window panes, They were all wide open.
“My Lord, are you okay?”, he asked curiously, before adding on a side note,“What happened to Lady Bianca?”
A subtle blush seemed to spill out over the young lord’s cheeks, his dark tone aided in hiding away most of it though.
"Do you want a drink? I heard my Uncle speaking last week - they've imported some of the world's finest champagne. You look like you could use something to relax."
The change in subject had Koaru rather suspicious over Tyson’s well being. Was he really this nervous? The poor guy
Shaking his head politely, The young butler pleasantly declined the offer , “Thank you, But I don’t drink if I can help it. I’m not exactly an expert at holding my alcohol. It be far too wild a case if people saw me dancing up on the tables now.”
With a reassuring wink, Koaru ran a finger quizzically beneath his chin, adding thoughtfully, “The ballroom looks a little over crowded and hot. With so many guests it’s no surprise really...may I recommend that we move part of the dance-floor out onto the balcony.? It would take barely a minute to arrange?”
With a nod towards the barman, Koaru passed a glass of champaign towards Tyson. His own glass filled with juice. “Some fresh air and drink seem to be the right medicine for nerves, Or so they say.”

“Thank you, But I don’t drink if I can help it. I’m not exactly an expert at holding my alcohol."
"Hm?" Tyson frowned at Koaru, agitated, "What?"
"It would be far too wild a case if people saw me dancing up on the tables now.”
Tyson just stared at Koaru for a long moment, still scowling, then the words seemed to sink in. Despite himself, he snorted, tight lips pulling into a smile which he hid with his hand. He could scarcely imagine graceful, refined Koaru dancing on a table! Perhaps that was where the humour lay. "No, we can't have that." He agreed, looking more relaxed now with a nervy smile on his lips. "Just for me then." He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and after a quick glance to either side, drained it. He put the empty glass back on the tray and shooed the waiter away. God, that was better!
“The ballroom looks a little over crowded and hot." Koaru pointed out beside him, "With so many guests it’s no surprise really...may I recommend that we move part of the dance-floor out onto the balcony? It would take barely a minute to arrange?”
"Thank you!" Ty stressed, accepting the second glass of champagne that Koaru handed to him. "I've been saying all night that it's too hot in here. Thank you, my friend." He took a long drink of champagne, and Koaru added, “Some fresh air and drink seem to be the right medicine for nerves, Or so they say.”
"Hm." Ty grunted his agreement, finishing the second glass, and raising his finger to order another. "I imagine so." He refused to admit to being nervous. "In any case, Koaru--"
"Prince Tyson?"
"Oh God, what now?" He groaned under his breath, looking up and forcing a bland smile at the pretty, dark-haired girl who approached him. She was shorter than him, even with her heels.
"I've been searching for you all night." She said upon reaching him, smiling sweetly. She couldn't have been much over sixteen, but she acted like a tiny queen already. What was this repulsive system that he lived in?
"Forgive me," he bowed his head, "there have been some issues which needed my attention."
"Oooh, I love a man who takes action." The young lady said flirtily, stepping closer and touching his arm. He tensed.
"I am Lady Felicity. My father is a close friend of your Uncle's, I believe."
Ah, Felicity. So this was his Uncle's preferred choice for his partner? "He speaks very highly of you." Ty murmured, not quite able to keep the ice from his tone.
"Oh, you flatter me, my Prince." She held out her hand, "So shall we...?"
Oh, right. He was supposed to ask her to dance. "Right. I mean, yes. Of course." He cleared his throat, flustered by his error, and grabbed Felicity's hand, dragging her onto the dancefloor. She was better than Bianca. She moulded like softened butter in his grip, and as he gained confidence, he was able to dip and spin her, moving gracefully in an elegant dance with Felicity as the beautiful extension of his arm. When a waiter passed, he grabbed them each a glass of champagne.

The night went on. Other girls approached him several times, but Tyson had no interest in meeting someone new and starting this all over again. Whenever Felicity left to use the bathroom - which was incredibly often, in his opinion - he would sneak another drink. Just enough to cure the nerves.
Eventually, as the night began to creep towards the following day, Tyson found himself out on the balcony with Felicity, looking into the palace garden. He didn't remember coming out here, but somebody would have to see to the swaying of the floor! Luckily, Felicity didn't seem fazed by it. He couldn't imagine why. He was quite seasick.
"It's lovely out here, isn't it?" She murmured, staring out at the sky. Tyson looked at her, and nodded.
"Yes." He agreed, "The view is quite beautiful."
This comment, for whatever reason, seemed to have an effect on the girl. Before Tyson knew what was happening, she had his face in her hands. Slow and stupid in his drunkenness, he just gaped as she stood on her toes and leaned toward him, and then suddenly she was kissing his open mouth. He felt the cold dampness of her saliva around his lips, and the taste of one-too-many breath mints made him gag and shove her away, wiping a hand harshly across his mouth. Without a word or even as much as a backward glance, he turned around and stormed back into the hall.

People were everywhere. There was light, and noise, and everything was spinning. His heart raced sickeningly, and with his hand still shielding his violated lips, he could not forget the ghastly, feminine taste of the girl's cherry-scented lipgloss.
Unsure of where he was going, Ty just stumbled through the crowds, until finally he spied Koaru on the outskirts of the dancefloor. There he was; the only person in the world Tyson wanted to see. Never before had he been so grateful to see someone in his life! He stumbled right into his butler's arms, and gasped in a harsh whisper, "Get me out of here."

(Posting Post of Postness)

Koaru watched over Tyson through pretty eyes of mild amusement. The Poor Price had whisked away once more by yet another determined lady, this one of a more suitable height at least.
Shaking his lovely head in slight disbelief, the butler passed his Prince a reassuringly wink. You've turned into quite the charmer, Ty. You’ll do just fine.

Keeping an ever close eye on his master, Koaru shifted between the crowds like panther in the dark. His next objective was to open up the balcony to the ever growing crowds.
Once he had located a few of the head servants, the task was quickly under way. With the cool breath of the night now open to the public, Koaru nodded in satisfaction before settling into the graceful dance circles of the night.
Round and Round they twirled like a carousal in motion. When night began to drain away into the early hours of dawn, Koaru retreated back toward his spot near the bar.
He had lost sight for a moment of two. Was he outside? Across the room? In the Bathroom?
A tiny quickening of the butler’s nerves flared beneath his mask of perfect tranquillity. His hawk-like eyes shifted through the parasitic crowds like a readied blade. Where could he be?, he murmered quietly.

The staggering form of a young man rapidly began to approach him, cutting through a gap in the sea of lace and ruffles.
With open arms, Koaru swept up Tyson directly into his embrace. He was dazzled by the Prince’s sudden appearance and felt his lips tighten with concern. Something's wrong.
"Get me out of here.", Tyson gasped.
Not another word was needed. Supporting his master firmly around the waist, Koaru shielded him protectively and lead him through the crowds unseen like Harry Potter beneath a cloak of invisibility.
Once they had fled towards the quiet of the hallway, they took to the an even more abandoned location; the Kitchen. The staff had finished off the last of their duties a few hours ago, leaving Koaru and Tyson alone to confide and recover.

“What happened? Are you okay?”, Koaru asked anxiously, fussing over Tyson like a mother hen as he dipping the man gently into a nearby chair.
The chaos inside the ballroom still ruptured loudly with drunken laughter and cheery music.
Good, They won’t notice our absence for a while then
Turning his attention back his flustered master, Koaru frowned. Padding quickly through the kitchen on strangely soundless steps. He returned a minute later with a glass of ice water.
“Drink this, It’ll help”

Koaru performed splendidly. Tyson didn't have to say another word; his butler just grabbed him around the waist, shielding and supporting him, and ushered him out of the hall so quickly that nobody - except maybe Felicity - could even have known he was gone. He was too dizzy to make sense of where he was going, or even how to put one foot in front of the other, but Koaru took care of that, and he soon found himself collapsed in a chair in a well-lit room.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Koaru asked, more anxious and flustered than his butler training would allow, Tyson was sure. He didn't mind. There was something warming about the compassion. Still, he just groaned in response, and lowered his thundering head into his hands. His forehead felt greasy with sweat, and it repulsed him. Alcohol truly was the Devil's drink.

He didn't notice Koaru's absence until he returned with a glass of ice water, which he pressed into Ty's clumsy, sweating hands.
“Drink this, It’ll help.” He urged, and Ty nodded in response, cupping the glass in both hands and tipping it up to his lips like a child. He poured it down his throat so quickly that it ended up down his chin and over his clothes as well, but it felt so damn good on his parched tongue that Ty could only snap his fingers and gasp for Koaru to bring more. By the time he'd gulped down his third glass, he was ready to slow down. When Koaru brought the fourth, Tyson actually thanked him, then sipped slowly at it, beginning to regain a little of his dignity. "What a ghastly event." He spat at last, shakily, and took another sip. "The impudence of some people! You would think they might display a little self-restraint." His cheeks began heating when he remembered Lady Felicity, and her kiss. Sixteen years old, she had kissed him, and here he was the one feeling so irreparably upset! How humiliating.
"Koaru," Ty sighed, dropping his posh pretense, and letting his voice soften to something more personal. "It's been a long night. I just want to go to sleep. Come with me to my room, please. I could use some company."