Demetri sat atop his maned elk, standing in the crossway of the stone path connecting Jongvale to the capital city of Malatia. The army had already been sent back, as it was imperative to get the injured back home and tended to. Demetri had stayed, however, with several good men to hunt down his son who'd been lost in the storm. He'd hoped when the storm cleared his son would return without much hassle, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Still no sign of him, my lord," said Ivan who trotted his mount out of the woods.

Demetri growled. "Anyone else would have returned to us by now," he snarled. "Anyone else would have been able to wait out the storm safely and wouldn't require a search party to recover them."

"I remember when you were young and ventured into the wild for the fun of it, fighting bears and dire wolves. A storm never stopped you from returning home when you were expected, either," Ivan appraised.

"Riccardo's nothing like me," Demetri grumbled. "Weak. That's what he is. He best have prayed to the gods for the storm to have killed him quickly. It will be more mercy than if he returns at this point."

"He will return," said Ivan. "And you will hammer him into stronger steel. It has been a process, I know, but you are more than capable of the task."

Demetri let out a soft, frustrated growl as he looked back at the woods. Ruben was next to rejoin them, his gryphon gliding down from over the trees and landing near them.

"I could not find him, my lord," Ruben said, ears back. "I apologize. I had a duty to him - to you."

"It is no fault of yours, Ruben," Demetri assured. "It's Riccardo. It's his incompetence."

At this moment, Luka came out from the woods on foot. He stepped lightly over the snow, more graceful and quick than any human could have been. "I've been unable to spot him," he informed as he joined the others.

Demetri growled again and spurred his mount as he turned it about. "Hours wasted on finding him," he complained, riding back into town. "He's more trouble than he's worth. Truly he is."

"Perhaps we leave him," Ivan suggested. "Let him build character finding his own way home. Injured, cold, hungry: it would do him good to struggle."

"Are you suggesting I'm too soft on him," Demetri asked, frowning in deep disapproval.

"His life is easier than ours were as boys," Luka added. "We built this kingdom with our own two hands. Riccardo has only known the spoils of our work."

"I would not say soft is the right word, though," Ruben added his input. "No one thinks you to be soft, my lord."

"Mm..." From anyone else, he might doubt the meaning of those words, but Ruben was one of the few men he trusted with his life and the man had proven his loyalty time and time again.

"I found him," a voice called and had all heads turn to face. Galloping towards them was the last member of their party. Valentin's red hair starkly contrasted against the tree bark and snow set as his backdrop. "I spotted his gryphon walking with a small party on the westward road," Valentin explained, slowing his maned elk as he approached.

"The west road," Demetri repeated, glancing off in that direction. "You mentioned he was with a small party. Who?"

"They looked like the desert people of The Underground City," Valentin explained. "Mahvash and her people perhaps? They were coming this way."

"Running late to their invitation for the party," Ivan remarked. "And found our young prince on the way. How lucky for him."

"Just what we needed," Demetri said, turning his elk about-face. "To give our allies any reason to believe we're weak."

Ruben volunteered to wait for Mahvash and her company at the gate of Jongvale while the rest of the group headed back to the earl's house where they'd waited out the storm. The human guards took the giant, fanged elk with trepidation once the group of soldiers dismounted them. Demetri's snapped at the human who took his reins.

"Someone help this man handle my mount," Demetri instructed. "Lest he lose his arm tonight."

Another man joined the first immediately to help control the beast, but Demetri didn't linger to watch their methods. He turned to march into the earl's house, ears flicking back at the sound of his men falling in step behind him.

"How do you plan on dealing with Ruben," Ivan asked Demetri as they entered their host's grand hall.

The hall was lit with candlelight flickering along the walls that flamed as bright as the sun to the nocturnal eyes of this group of vampires. They each had to blink against it to do their best to acclimate themselves to the light.

"Ruben?" Demetri shook his head. "I blame him not for losing Riccardo in the storm. The boy has no sense. I told you how that wolf ambushed him. If Ruben and his gryphon hadn't stepped in, he would have lost his arm entirely."

"I think Ruben should still bare some kind of punishment," Luka offered. "The rest of us wouldn't have lost your son."

"The rest of us have attempted to straighten that boy out," Demetri growled. "Ruben is not at fault." There was finality in his tone that left no room for more discussion.

Demetri took his gloves off and pocketed them before he sank into a chair at the head of the table in the grand hall. This way, he faced the large double doors of the room with a ramrod-straight posture. There was little left to do but wait, now. It was all as well to Demetri who knew he had to calm his anger. He would have to wait to have a word with his son as such family matters were simply not done in front of such prestigious company as the Empress Mahvash.

There was nothing to do now but wait for Ruben to bring his son and the empress to him, though. Demetri snapped at a human servant to bring them warm cider. After their extended time outside looking for his son, he thought they could all do with something warm while they waited.

It was half an hour later that the doors to the hall finally opened to reveal Empress Mahvash herself followed by who could only be guards and family. Demetri thought he recognized one of her wives who walked on her right but the other he thought might be new. The men and women in uniform with swords on their person around her he could not say if he had ever seen before, either.

Demetri's eyes, however, were not keen on studying the servants, guards, or even wives the desert empress had thought to bring with her to attend the party. His eyes, instead, fell on his son who flanked the empress.

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His son looked disheveled and weary. His eyes were fixed on the ground, with defeat in his posture. Demetri felt anger flare white hot in his chest and creep up into his face. At times, it was hard to believe this weak boy shared his blood when he never showed any desire for authority and was always so predisposed to this passiveness and submission that he showed now. Demetri fought to keep his lip from curling back from his fangs and instead looked to Mahvash.

"So good of you to join us," he said as he rose from his seat to walk down the length of the long table. Admittedly, Mahvash wasn't his favorite of his royal peers from around the world. Her treacherous relations with other women were not something he wanted to spread in his kingdom. "And lucky you found my son on the way."

"Lucky, indeed," Mahvash said with a small smirk pulling at the corner of her lip. "There would be no party without him, after all. What a shame to have come all this way for nothing."

"Mm..." Alayne had been against this expedition as well, Demetri could not help but compare the two women's point of view. "Then we should thank The Mother that was not the case." He came to a stop at the other end of the table and pulled a chair out for her at that end of the long table. "You must be weary from your travels, though. Please, have a seat."

"Your manners never fail to impress," Mahvash complimented as she took her seat.

Demetri noticed Ivan, Luka, Ruben, and his other men pull chairs out for the rest of the female members of Mahvash's entourage. Riccardo, on the other hand, looked like he was trying to disappear into thin air. There'd never been anything commanding about that boy, and even now he looked like the mousey servant rather than the crown prince.

"I hope my son was as polite while he was in your custody," Demetri said, eyeing the boy who wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Oh, he was," Mahvash agreed. "However unusual the circumstance, he accepted my aid and his gift with much grace. Leon, come here," she gestured towards Riccardo and it was only now that Demetri gave the blonde man behind his son any attention.

The blonde man scowled slightly but stepped forward, and with the shift of the air as he came before them, Demetri inhaled deeply at a scent he had not smelled in some time. He appraised the slightly pointed tips of the blonde's ears with renewed interest.

"A fae?" Demetri reached out to grab at the man, but immediately the fae recoiled.

"Don't touch me," the fae snapped.

Demetri curled his lips back from his fangs with a hiss immediately, and this time grabbed forcefully at the fae's chin to jerk his head up and expose his neck. The fae didn't try to stop him, but scowled more, glaring in defiance.

"Those who don't learn to hold their tongue soon find it removed from their mouth," Demetri hissed in warning. He turned to Riccardo, then. "Take note, Riccardo, to start teaching your pet some manners."

"Yes, sir," Riccardo said, finally looking up to meet Demetri's gaze.

"I wouldn't be so fast to take his tongue if I were you," Mahvash told Demetri. "The fae are talented musicians and singers. He's no exception. I've had him performing in my kingdom for the better part of the last year. I admit, he's not a terribly great singer, but he does wonders with a flute and is a talented storyteller."

Demetri glared back at the defiance in the fae's eyes. "Performing will not spare you should you not learn to obey your masters." He threw the fae down by his face so that he fell onto all fours at Riccardo's feet. "I've more use for your blood, fae, than performances. Keep that in mind. Riccardo, you would do well to remember that, too."

"I will," Riccardo promised and bent to grab the back of the fae's shirt to pull him up to his feet. "Is it true, then? About a fae's blood?" He looked away from the fae and at Demetri and then Mahvash.

"Fae's blood has been known to possess special qualities," Mahvash explained. "I had no idea you did not know. A warrior prince such as yourself might be interested to know a fae's blood offers rapid healing and increased strength for the vampire who drinks from them among other things."

"They are rumored to bring fortune to those who drink from them as well," Demetri said, eyeing the fae's pulse point in his neck. The fae crossed his arms where he stood and lowered his head in a subconscious attempt to hide his throat from the vampires.

"A truly remarkable gift for our young prince," Ivan rumbled to Mahvash. "He's just started joining us in battle, and this will give him the edge on our enemies that he will need."

"I had no idea the fae were still around," added Luka, eyeing the fae as well. "Where did you find it? Mayhaps there are more?"

"We're already combing the area," Mahvash said. "He hasn't been particularly forthcoming on whether or not there are others about, but if there are, we'll find them."

"I'm sure you will," Luka said.

"Should you need assistance if the group is large, we would gladly come to your aid," Demetri offered. "One fae is not so dangerous, but a host of them with their light abilities combined can be."

"How kind," Mahvash said. "I'm certain we could handle it if we come across them, however. They aren't known to be fighters."

"Never underestimate your enemy," Demetri said, eyeing the fae's defiant glare.

It was at this moment several people wheeled a cart into the hall, the smell of warm soup filling the air. The sight and smell were greeted favorably by the travel-weary vampires. Demetri was glad for the disruption to the conversation as well, but he had his mind on a far richer drink than the broths and teas brought for them.

"The citizens of Jongvale have an understanding with us," Demetri said as he walked back to his seat finally at the head of the table. "If you desire blood, they'll provide. You need but to ask."

"Such hospitality," Mahvash complimented again, already eyeing a servant girl with an all too familiar look in her eyes.

The soup and tea being provided were not immediately taken. The servants were more interesting to the travel-weary vampires at this table, and soon many had the humans in their laps, baring their fangs and biting into soft flesh to drink blood. Demetri let his guests have their pick first, having fed much more recently than them. His eyes couldn't help but travel down the table, however, where he eyed the fae looking away with a pale face from the feeding vampires around him. Besides the fae, he saw his injured son lifting a spoon of soup to his lips.

"Riccardo," Demetri addressed. "You do Mahvash a dishonor by not tasting your new pet."

Riccardo looked up, ears turning back as he met his father's gaze and then flicked his eyes to the empress in question. "I don't mean any dishonor on you," he let her know. "I just didn't... I'm not hungry for blood at the moment."

Mahvash quirked her head slightly at Riccardo. "A shy feeder, are you," she asked, amusedly. "There's no need to be so nervous with us, young prince. You are injured and clearly in need. I understand there's still a full night's journey ahead of us as well. You'll need your strength."

"Drink, Riccardo," Demetri encouraged with a small nod at the boy. He saw the boy's eyes narrow slightly, a tension that was almost too subtle to see, but he was certain if he was closer he would also smell the faint smoldering scent of his son's defiance, too. Where Riccardo should show strength and pride, he tended to bend and break. But there were times, like now, that Demetri saw the potential Riccardo had and the boy only seemed to show it over the most infuriatingly wrong things. His lip curled a little as he stared down the boy, heedless of the obvious discomfort now beginning to cause people to shift in their seats around the table. If Riccardo wanted to challenge him in front of people, Demetri wasn't going to back down from it: even if it was over something as ridiculous as drinking from the fae.

"It's no matter if he drinks now or later," Mahvash finally broke the silence. She picked up a napkin from the table to dab at blood around her lips. She hadn't seemed too uncomfortable by the tension between father and son to nibble at the servant girl in her lap. One of her wives, too, had picked up the girl's wrist and was drinking at it as the empress spoke. "It's better to let a shy feeder feed in privacy, anyways. It's less messy, that way." She licked her finger and rubbed it against the puncture wounds in her dinner's neck. The girl stopped bleeding from the bite in seconds.

Demetri narrowed his eyes at Riccardo, neither of them breaking their gaze from each other. "You may as well retire, then, to feed and get rest for our journey tomorrow."

"Don't drink too deeply," Mahvash warned with a teasing smile. "There aren't many of his kind left. It would be a shame to lose him."

Riccardo rose from his seat at that. "Of course," he said to Mahvash. "Thank you again, my lady." He turned and grabbed the arm of the fae to yank him up. The fae seemed to have learned his lesson about biting his tongue, but Demetri could smell the smoldering anger rolling off the fae and see it clear in his blue eyes.

"Be firm with him," Demetri added his advice. "Your pet seems prone to disobedience. Do not make me have to get involved."

Riccardo only nodded silently before he dragged the fae away presumably to find where he'd be resting for the day.