The Pleasure of Business.

[Cadence]

Cadence groans out softly. Over-turning upon the soft padding of the bed. Her back is left open to the elements, bare as the day she was born, save for that thin layer of bed sheets she became bound-up within. Breasts pressed firm upon the mattress below. Those blue, blue eyes of hers are left to fluttering for the briefest of moments before she allows such to slip closed once more. Sinking back into the recess of slumber.

There’s Joscelin’s handsome features and those pretty blue eyes of his, suited to match both the sky above their heads, and the sea at their backs. He was handsome, and her heart had fluttered at the first sight of him, like some sort of school girl with a first crush. Joscelin William Teimlia. The prince of Dysprosium. Her rebel lover.

She remembered that day upon the docks all too fondly. When he’d saved herself from that wayward box, and the pulley operator who couldn’t simply seem to handle his only job. Her hands had proved fine enough for the time being, though his were large and strong balanced over her own before guiding that swinging crate downwards and towards the dock. He saved her for all intents and purposes. And that was how Joscelin had come into her life.

She’d never expected him to become such an important part.

Cadence sighs out. Those milky arms of hers rifling from beneath the padding laid under her head. Small palms smooth upon the bed sheets once more only to prop herself upwards. Cadence is almost eager to turn over within her place once more offering up bare, teacup breasts to the cool air swarming inwards from open windows. Fingertips trail downwards along the curve of her naked abdomen. Soft palms settle upon the swell of her hips, hesitant to stir, and draw her legs from beneath those warm bed sheets, despite the cool breeze tracing along her flesh.

Almost hesitantly Cadence leans forth to gather those blankets from between her thighs, drawing such upwards and across her chest to cover the soft swell of her form. She should get moving. The day was well onwards to it’s mid hour, and she did come to Dysprosium for business, and not pleasure. Though that’s not to say she doesn’t enjoy any sort of business conducted when Joscelin’s about. Small hands lift to ruffle through her hair carefully. She pulls her knees towards her chest, only to tuck forth, chin resting upon the points of her knees. Simply basking in what warmth the sunlight had to offer up.

“Joscelin?” Cadence finally manages to grunt out, pinching a single eye shut. She’s submitting to the day’s worth of work before winding those blankets taught about the curves of her form, “Marcus?” she calls out, thereafter, shifting her bare form so toes may touch upon the cold floor below.

Cade isn’t exactly what could be considered a morning person. Small hands are soon left to pressing upon her eyes, knocking any remainder of sleep from within those pretty blue orbs. Soft mouth falls ajar with a yawn, and a faint quiver, slender arms lifting high above her head so she may pop the line of her spine. Cadence was born into nigh nobility, and early mornings hadn’t been something she’d experienced until just recently, and it was still taking some getting use to.

Clothes, maybe breakfast, not to mention that she’d need to get out of Joscelin’s “castle” to get any sort of business done.

The small woman’s chest heaves with a heavy sort of sigh. Those blue, blue eyes of hers fluttering closed for a brief moment. One step at a time. Heaven knew Joscelin had already busied himself with ten different kinds of paper-work this morning. And, Cadence was just now rising.

[Joscelin]

She could always be wrong. She could be wrong about Joscelin entirely and mayhap he wasn't busy with paperwork but sitting there by the hearth? That's what he was doing that morning; savoring the cool air flitting through the open windows of his his bedchamber. His eyes flit over the small piece of raw-wood he holds within one palm as the other hefts a knife cleverly and with deft precision. Slight shavings as thin as paper curl and give to the stroke of his blade before he pauses briefly to tap such into a small saucer; a saucer holding every ounce of shavings that would be tossed to the fire within that hearth.

It had been a pleasant morning to say the least and filled with Joscelin laying quietly beside Cadence as she slept. She had become his lover - one Cadence Sinclair - child of one of the few Soleil Hill families. If he had been any other man he might preen at the thought and swell with pride but Joscelin saw her different and not simply some prize. He felt attracted to her and that's why he bedded her. Although one couldn't say that Joscelin didn't do that often. He was a passionate man, after all. He could hear Cadence shifting then as his brows knit and his tongue smooths over his lower lip. Even after she calls out he says nothing until she's very nearly ready to come to her feet. He speaks aloud; his voice carrying easily within that room spread out with leather carrying cases, pots of peculiar plants and other such nonsense and wooden figurines here and there.

"You should rest. It's still early. I can get you some food to break your fast," he murmurs and pauses. "If you'd like?" He asks before notching that piece of wood carefully; nicking and splintering at such with ease before holding the figure within his palm and eying such critically. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth briefly before he's sighing heavily and coming to his feet. It would be then - because the seat he was perched upon had its back to her - that she'd see him finally; naked and without shame. With a swift motion he plants his knife within the table beside that saucer and with that he takes the saucer up only to toss the shavings upon such into the fire; the flames brightening with life briefly as he looks over his shoulder to her.

He was a fine man overall; lean and muscled. He took care of himself well enough and that wasn't making mention of the fact that he was well-endowed. Ah, but that didn't matter so long as a man knew how to work between the sheets, no? He turns toward her with those blue eyes of his and walks around both his chair and table before stepping closer to the bed and beside such. He lowers himself to sit there upon the edge before his palm's offering something to her. It would take her a moment to realize what the figure was though no doubt; yet, despite such, the craftsmanship was excellent.

It's a small ship with notches for portholes. It looks reminiscent of her own trade ship but missing sails, of course. It's small enough to fit within his palm but hers fingers would have trouble wrapping around such with one hand considering the fact his own was much larger. He sets the tiny ship within her palm then before shifting further to face her more fully; leg dragging against the bed and knee lifting as his other leg kept off; foot upon the cool floor. His eyes are warm with mild amusement then as his mouth twists toward a pleasant smile that's echoed by his own eyes. So nonchalant and calm. One could almost wonder whether or not he knew a war was upon the brink; a rebellion ready to burst at any moment from the hearts of the people all around them. Did he even realize that?

Oh, yes, he did. He was the heart of the rebellion. He toiled over maps, figures and the orders of hundreds of men - if not thousands - currently flocking to their numbers. They needed more though and Joscelin knew that. Still, Cadence was here and what she offered - and gave - assisted him greatly; no, assisted them. He leans over her to kiss her mouth firmly before drawing back and lifting his hand to touch upon her hair. His forefinger and thumb stroking over one lock gently before his fingertips brush against her cheek and his head gives a quick shake.

"We've got business to attend to when you're ready, but you should eat first. It will be a long day," he says simply. "Would you like me to draw you a bath?" He asks next with his brows raised. There's no doubt she was used to such comforts; some people of Dysprosium hardly had the chance to bathe more than three times a week. It's unfortunately, truly. His hand lowers to his lap as he watches her quietly all the while.

[Cadence]

“Oh,” Cadence breathes out softly. She hadn’t realized Joscelin was in the room when she woke. And why would she, she hadn’t even gotten past rolling onto her back, yet! And then there he was! Quiet as a church mouse before he was speaking. Once more soft palms lift upwards to press against her eyes. There’s still hints of exhaustion threatening at those pretty blue eyes of hers; limbs heavy. Early mornings would most definitely be her demise.

Then again she could just be being a slight overdramatic. Cadence would be fine, and even moreso with Joscelin at her side.

For a brief moment she allows those pretty blue eyes of hers flutter closed, even with Joscelin drawing closer. There’s something absolutely comforting about having him around. It’s that sense of normalcy amongst what could be considered trying times. There’s a rebellion going on, after all, and Joscelin is that point of calm, despite the revolution brewing is on his behalf. He was the prince of Dysprosium. Her business partner, and most importantly, her lover. She’d never confess to such, but she needed him. Joscelin was the first man to treat her as an equal, or even more than that. He treated her well when her husband didn’t. He gave her what that damned ship captain couldn’t; attention, affection, soft touches in the middle of the night. Comfort.

“You look good, Joscelin,” she murmurs softly. Sure, he was naked, but he was attractive, even when nude! Perhaps more than when he was clothed, with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, and that handsome face. Those lean muscles that Cadence loved to touch upon any chance she could get. “Perhaps better than that time you came to see me in Thalasa,” the date they made love on her trade ship. He’d been dressed well, high-end, and proper. He looked well; like his mother, or so Marcus had told her.

It’s only when he draws near that Cadence bothers to shift her elbows beneath her weight, propping herself up a slight, only to back pedal towards the head board with relative ease. She drags layer after layer of those coverlets with her to press upon her naked chest. The soft swell of her breasts hidden from view, at least until she actually decided to rise and pull on some clothes. It’s then his mouth is pressing upon the part of her own soft lips. She can’t help but to smile upon his mouth before her lips are pursing to his in an easy sort of reply.

With sleep still blurring her vision Joscelin is offering herself something. Her small hands lift away from the expanse of her abdomen to catch up that small piece of wood. She squints in its direction for a short moment before a smile curves the soft part of her pout. She knew that ship. She’d known it since she was but a small girl, after all. It was one of the last things the Sinclairs still held as their’s and their’s alone. That ship, and a small amount of farm land. “This is wonderful, Joscelin,” she compliments, overturning the small vessel to prod fingertips across it’s smooth surface, it’s pleasant, even to the touch, the small piece offers up not even the slightest of the splinters.

Her shoulders settle back upon the beds sheets, and that ship comes in contact with the dip of her stomach, settling just below her naval, it stands sturdy against those soft sheets. “A bath would do fine, my Prince,” she murmurs thereafter. Her fingertips nudge upon that small ship the draw it upwards and along the ripple of her ribs before she’s plucking it up once more. Two hands, mind you. She’s very careful with such a fine piece of work, after all she had every intention of taking it home with her, and settling it upon the hearth in her bedroom, at the very least, “If you’ll join me, that is,” she offers up thereafter, offering up a sweet sort of smile, amusement alight in those tired blue eyes of hers.

“I had a dream last night,” she informs him with another one of those warm smiles, “Of the day we first met,” she sighs out thereafter, “Do you recall?” she questions thereafter overturning that small ship within the palm of her hands once more. It’s then she’s shifting to sit upwards more completely with slender legs folding beneath her form. Those sheets fall away, then, settling into her lap and leaving her breasts bare to the nip of the cool autumn air within his bedroom.

A small hand lifts upwards then, to draw upon the curve of his cheekbone before her hand falls back downwards to cuddle upon that small wooden ship.

[Joscelin]

Joscelin was watching her all the while. What did he see then and there? That was a question many people asked him. Many people have even wondered such as well. You see, there's something different about Joscelin as there always had been. Maybe having to cope with the loss of his father at such an early age and then the dealings of becoming an adult before even knowing what a child truly was. He simply didn't have the luxury then nor now. Except that there were only so many people who knew what had happened back then. Now the only living man was Marcus.

So nonchalant despite the burden upon his very own shoulders. It could have very well been the weight of the world. Yet, Joscelin moved and spoke like a man who held very little weight upon everything. It's only a wonder how he had never been caught and perhaps this was why.

"A bath then," Joscelin echoes her with agreement as he slowly comes to his feet without even a care for covering himself as she had herself. He's drawing away then with his back to her to step toward the adjoining privy room only to hear her voice once more. Oh, how could he deny her? Certainly she knew that he couldn't say no. He smiles over his shoulder to her. "Of course, Miss Sinclair."

He hadn't gone far before then and was soon back at her side - or at least somewhat - he's leaning over her and standing at the edge of the bed with his hands upon the sheets. "I remember," he says with his mouth turning toward a sweet smile and hsi eyes gleaming. "You were nearly knocked over by the crate. If I hadn't been there then you would have been lost," he murmurs; dragged under by her gown and the weight of water. It's a morbid thought. Yet, she's here and well and alive, no?

His eyes flutter shut to the touch of her hand upon his cheek before his face tips to kiss her palm.

"I dream too," he says. "Of you," he says and then offers a smile. "And of a life I once lived."

It's then that he presses his mouth gently to hers before she can question him and he's drawing away to step barefoot toward the privy once more. "It's time to bathe now and then we'll break our fast!" He exclaims with enthusiasm and a smile as he retreats into the adjoining privy where the sound of heated water could be heard loosed from the cistern cleverly planted within the wall.

[Cadence]

Her face tips a slight, warm mouth smoothing upon Joscelin’s own all too eagerly. There was definitely nothing wrong with waking up like this. Even if she hadn’t woken up beside Joscelin, he’d still been there, and seemed to be more than eager to cater to what could be considered Cadence’s “needs.”

It’s not to say that Miss Sinclair wasn’t capable of caring for herself! Far from it! Sure, she was married to a wealthy man, but the problem was, he was never around. And in all actuality, she preferred when Noah wasn’t about. He was, in her opinion, a despicable human being, and wholly unworthy of her hand in marriage. He was never about, at best, and abusive at the very worst. Joscelin, on the other hand was on the complete opposite end of that spectrum, despite being hours away, on average. He was kind, and sweet, caring with soft touches, and warm words, everything that a husband should be.

A bath did sound good. Damn good, in fact. Her hand catches up Joscelin’s own easily, and she’s more than quick to sweep away the bed sheets and bare her soft form. Her cheeks catch red and warm in an almost bashful blush, as though Joscelin had never seen her nude form, before. Heaven knew he had seen her bate body, time and time before that.

But what were the two of them to do after bathing? Breakfast, for certain, and no doubt they had some sort of dealings to tend to. That was why she was here, after all, this was a business trip, and not some sort of vacation! Cadence’s muddled mind, however, simply couldn’t seem to wrap about what the two of them were to tend to. Would they be going far? Would Marcus accompany? No doubt! Cadence simply couldn’t recall a time when Joscelin and herself had gone out without the accompaniment of that much larger male.

“Joscelin,” Cadence questions, those pretty blue eyes fluttering in attempts to clear her mind, “What’re we to be doing today?” she questions thereafter. A slender arm smoothes across the rise of her chest to cover soft breasts bashfully.

Luckily, however, it wouldn’t be long before she was once more covered, this time within that warm pool of water, instead of Joscelin’s thin bed sheets. Heaven knew why Cadence even bothered with this whole bashful routine. Sir Teimlia had seen damn near all of her naked form, from that small beauty mark upon the curve of his spine to the soft curl of hair at the nape of her neck when her hair was pinned up. Along with the soft dip of her abdomen when he brought her knees to quivering while pinned beneath the warm weight of his hips.

Cadence offers up a warm sigh, rump settling upon the lip of that bath. Her fingertips dip inwards to test the temperature before she’s turning over in her place in order to lower herself into the warm confines with an almost satisfied groan, “Mm,” she coos out, lifting a tiny hand to catch up Joscelin’s fingertips to draw him closer, “Join me,” Cadence urges, though it weren’t already in his plans.

She could truly do no more than simply stretch out within the pleasant water, arms lifting over head in a lazy motion. It was lovely to simply be in such trying times; to not worry about a single thing, at least not for another hour or so.