//AN: Pic is of the woman in the chapter.//

Perhaps he should have asked what that drink was. It was delicious. And it has, apparently, made him tipsy after just one bottle--something Den has never, in almost two million years, come across.

He keeps one eye on the baseboard of the wall as he moves through the courtyard, focusing on that straight line to keep his own steps steady. He isn't drunk--that would certainly take much more than one bottle. But he isn't expressly sober either.

Interesting.

He moves from the main courtyard into the interior gardens, deciding that while the multitude of color is annoying, the scents are quite beautiful and might help him sober up.

The fact that he isn't entirely in control, however, doesn't mean he has any less of an iron grasp on his senses. He can feel someone's eyes.

With a casual turn--a glance at the rose bushes, perhaps, or a slow perusal of the stars appearing in the early night sky--Den searches for the source.

The gaze isn't malicious by any means, more curious than anything else, but Den makes it a point to know who has taken notice of him, and why. His eyes land on a young woman walking toward Yveira's door.

For a moment, he's frozen, a mixture of the light and shadows tricking him into thinking it's Yesmine.

But the scent is all wrong, and her hair is brighter than Yesmine's, long and wavy down her back. Unlike the other women he's seen at court--with Yveira being the exception--she doesn't wear gems and baubles in it. Her stride is graceful but casual, her stature is average, her body thin but obviously muscled--as if she's a fighter. Her skin is fair and there isn't anything expressly beautiful about her, unless the invisible darkness clinging to her counts.

And Yesmine wouldn't be here, anyway. She isn't a noble. But stars, for a moment...

Den tilts his head, further study bringing out the strong-willed way the woman carries herself and the interesting choice of clothing--plain, compared to everyone else, and simple. In fact the only ornamentation she wears is a golden band around her left bicep.

She may not be Yesmine, but something about her reminds him of the girl, and it isn't just her hair.

Den stops walking, still in the edges of the gardens, and finds himself amused when the woman walks right up to him, unashamed to have her staring noticed. Up close, it's even more obvious that she isn't his Yesmine, but there are... similarities. Mostly in attitude.

"You haven't been around here before," she says, her tone curious. Den tries to distract himself from thoughts of Yesmine by wondering why it's taken two days for him to meet the interesting people in this court.

"I'm just passing through," he says casually.

She tilts her head as if she doesn't believe him. Den arches a brow, noting the familiarity of the gesture. It's... different, though. Not Yesmine. He reminds himself that she left him and he shouldn't be looking everywhere for her.

"Cynical, aren't you?" He asks. "Need I remind you that you approached me, not the other way around." Distraction. He needs one even more now.

"Nobody that leaves from Yveira's door is just 'passing through'." There's a hint of something in her tone, something he can't quite place. Interesting.

"No?" Den queries, amusement in his tone. "I can't imagine why."

She smirks a little, absently. Perhaps she needs a distraction from her thoughts as much as he needs one from his. "At least she didn't throw you out." She makes a soft sound and adds, almost as an afterthought, "Without your clothes."

Den chuckles. "Does she do that often?"

"You'd be surprised. It's less often that she lets them stay."

"Easily bored, is she?" Den's eyes flick back to Yveira's door and a faint smirk twitches at his lips.

"That, and nearly impossible to please."

"She sounds like me," he says dryly. A pity that his plans were interrupted.

The red-haired woman crosses her arms. "So why is that you're leaving her room fully clothed, then? At such an early hour, too."

Den shrugs. "Alas, something came up."

"Or something didn't," she responds.

Den barks out a laugh, a wry grin lighting up his face. This woman might be a very welcome distraction, indeed. He tells himself it's not because she reminds him of Yesmine. Yesmine is gone.

"Though not for the reason you're thinking, I'm sure," he says dryly.

"Oh?" She tilts her head.

Den chuckles. "I assure you, m'lady, I am very capable."

She shrugs. "And yet I see no evidence thereof."

Den arches a brow, thoroughly amused by her now and in no hurry to go anywhere at all. "Would you like to?"

She returns his arched brow. "So am I to take Yveira's leftovers, then?"

Den makes a thoughtful sound, eyes glinting. "I suppose that depends on whether or not you can get me warmed up."

"You're the one with performance issues in question here, not me," she says, highly amused. She's staring at him, though, as if she can't look away. A familiar reaction.

Den can't help but laugh, shaking his head. This is really too much amusement for one night, especially considering the circumstances and how bored he's been for the past two days, not to mention the onslaught of depression he's been fighting ever since he came here. "And yet, neither can be proven without proper testing."

She arches a brow again, this one challenging. "So what are you planning on doing about it?"

Den takes a step closer. "What would you like me to do about it?"

She pokes his chest. "Prove you don't deserve to be kicked out of Yveira's room."

"Wouldn't that entail going back in there?" Den tilts his head. "I thought we were discussing you and I."

The woman grins a little mischievously, not taking her eyes off his, the invitation very clear. "Also happens to be the room I live in," she says, her voice lowering slightly.

Den finds himself laughing again, just for a moment. "Ironic, that. Shall we?" He offers her his arm, and she loops hers through it. "Perhaps we should go to my room, however... I'd assume it would be awkward considering the fact that Yveira is currently occupying yours."

For a moment it appears that she's going to speak, but she says nothing for several moments. Den simply waits, and then she nods, agreeing, and gestures for him to lead the way. With a faint, wry grin, he does.