He could not have dressed whores up or educated slaves to give him the sort of reactions Ilona treated him to. Her diverging head, her pulsing, hard jaw. Sometimes she was fleeing from him, and others she was barely containing her own murderous intent. Better men like your father end up on their knees with axes hovering over their necks. But he didn't need to tell her that, he only had to enjoy the truth of it at the zenith of triumph. While it was within his ability to keep countries as playrooms, it had been arduous and time-consuming acquiring Lamenwood, still. King of War, playing with smaller kingdoms and their spirited daughters. The tension in her body when her nerves drew with her distaste for him was reward enough.<br/><br/>He ground his teeth together in pure desire when she clawed her hand at the naked air and let a sweet, small sound out, a reflex to help her father. Perhaps that was why Aerill had stopped the first swing. Her confusion and the torrential punishment for having been spiteful once was now converging on her heart. He dispelled it for her with a second order. That lovely, dramatic hand of hers again, and then her father was dead. This time he'd tasted her cry, and it was bitter and delicious.<br/><br/>They looked at each other like they were in the sandpit that trained knights. She wanted at him, scrappy girl, and he wanted her to. Aerill held his hands out in question as to why she wasn't avenging her father, and the crowd liked the cocky act. They also wanted to see their formerly stoic princess undone by wrath, so they could have more of this billowing sensationalism. He had a bit of magic in him then, the dark, human kind, and she picked up on it. Hers wasn't the first vengeance his black stare had stayed.<br/><br/>"Nothing to say, Ilona?" he teased before turning to the people again. They welcomed his attention. How beautiful her chock had been. Does it matter to your anger when you discover it's directed a demon or a god? "Useless!" he called and the inflamed minds of the audience agreed. "But she'll have her chance." he continued, and leaned further off the edge, backhand on one corner of his mouth, sharing a secret with the crowd. They adored the theatrics of it. "I sleep deep, and we'll be naked in the same bed. I'm sure she can think of something painful." and then he clapped his teeth together. They laughed and started chanting for more.<br/><br/>Ilona was excused by force. She would be kept with food and wine, if she'd have it, in her mother's and father's old chambers. It wasn't really said that she was confined to the nostalgic room, but the guards outside insisted. She could still hear the festivities outside as they went on through noon and toward the evening.<br/><br/>Aerill stumbled in around supper time, and danced. Some of the midnight hair had come loose from its bond, and flattered one eye with a black crescent. Rugged now, and drunken. Not gone, but enough to have a sway to his stride after having closed the door. This room was big. He spun around, arm out for balance. "This is where you've been cooped up, Ilona?" he asked, as though she wasn't exactly where he'd had her put. A little blush on his prominent cheekbones - his mother must have been the most beautiful of available lovers to his father - and his eyes were even more fantastic now. The blue flecks were orbiting his abyssal pupils on the dark background, like pearls of summer sky were falling through a solid night curtain, circling black suns.<br/><br/>"I missed you." he confessed loudly and staggered forward with intent, aiming to catch her. He could play like that for a while, reaching and grabbing at her, chipper. He imagined she'd avoid him if she could, despite how well he wore his inebriation. "Ah, so cold." he complained and undid his belt to let the famous, genocidal swords clank to the floor. "But you're melting, aren't you?" He pulled his jacket off, and the tunic underneath, to present his upper body. Honed from war, it had shadows of long muscles as well as scars. He'd lived a life too, for his young age. He wondered what she'd seen of men before this. Would she faint at the sight of a proper cock?<br/><br/>"Now you." he invited with the flick of his wrist, walking closer. "Ah, please, don't be so political." he tried and pulled his band out to let his mop of hair obscure one eye and make the remaining one all the prettier. Wild, beautiful thing, coming closer. "You can have your pick of things as to why." he said, chin up and to the side. "Your brother's still in the dungeon, and your family can have grand funerals." Threats. reasons she should take off that mourning dress. "I won't take you if you don't want, but I wanna see the skin of the woman who could launch my army at her own with a fit of her pride." He hummed and swayed, closing in, funneling her into a corner. "You can have a wish, if it's reasonable, in exchange for that." He gestured for her clothing. If she noticed the one orb still visible, she'd see he was quite serious. He'd not been known to keep himself from what he wanted when he'd taken her world on a whim, perhaps she suspected a drunken Aerill would be even less inclined to see her reason.