"Madara,
Please forgive my intrusion into your studies however I have need of you. Please adjourn to my chambers and if I may suggest, be discreet and unseen.

Prince Reynold, Clan Ventrue childe of Ivan"

As Madara reads the letter, she feels fear press against her heart. What does the Prince want with her now? Has he not already taken enough from her? Will...he try to...take more? Madara does not dare ignore this summons, so she runs to a mirror to make sure she looks immaculate, straps on her sword and sheath, and leaves a note for Amalia telling her where she's going and why. She takes the Prince's letter and burns it-- as was her habbit-- and quickly makes her way out to the stables and takes Nanesti.

Soon she arrives at the castle, and Nanesti is taken by the ghoul-stablemen. As soon as no one is in sight, Madara cloaks herself in shadows and hurries into the castle. As she runs down the corridors, she is painfully reminded of how much freedom and power she once had in these walls...how she controlled everything that went on within them, and much of what went on without. Who has taken over her duties now?? She is still allowed to feed her ghouls, but when they ask why she has not been seen around the jail or watchtowers, she says that with the impending war she has been kept too busy.

Now Madara passes her chambers-- dropping her shadows-- and enters to feed her dogs and ask her ghoul how things are going. He, alone, of her ghouls knows what has happened to her. She hasn't even had the heart to tell Veni yet. The ghouls at her manor simply think that she has taken to living with Amalia-- much to their sighing and wistful sniffs, being that they hate having no one to serve continuously. Her chamber-ghoul gives her a hug, tells her how good the dogs have been, and the two ask and answer each others' questions for a time. Finally Madara excuses herself, leaves, and approaches the Prince's chamber doors. She takes a deep breath, straightens her clothes and posture, and knocks.

The door opens and Reynold motions her in. The room is different somehow. Things have been moved to different walls. She notices the bed is larger now seemingly able to sleep three comfortably. Laying upon the bed is a woman. In the firelight she is very pale and her breath comes in pants. "Ah Madara, welcome, please be seated...a refreshment perhaps?"

Madara stands in the doorway for a moment-- noticing every minute change that has been made, but saying nothing. Slowly she enters the room, looking very wary. She IS a little hungry from having just fed three ghouls, but she does not want anything Reynold has to offer her. She shakes her head. "No, my Prince. I am fine." Her eyes flicker to the woman on the bed, and she feels her heart go out to the woman...it could have been her if not for Amalia. Madara holds her hands behind her back and stands perfectly still, waiting for the Prince's next move.

"Madara you may relax before me. I am not going to punish you further. Please sit down. I have an idea and I need your assistance." He says sitting.

Madara feels emotion well up in her throat. Why is this happening to her?? EVERYONE was fooled by Romaine! And she has seen other primogen-- even princes-- give into the Beast at inopportune times! Why...WHY has she lost her position?? The female voice in her head has resigned itself to only weeping now when it makes itself known, and the more sinister male voice now laughs at her...but only when she is very tired. If only Reynold knew what he had resigned her to! And with war looming so near on top of it all! She HAS to get her position back soon!!

Madara looks over at one of the plush velvet chairs and walks over to it, sitting stiffly and still watching the Prince with the jumpiness of a cat.

"There, that's good, be comfortable. No? Then I shall reveal my plan. I have just Embraced her. Soon I shall feed her and she shall be Childer. What I need you to do is flesh-craft her into a perfect...very perfect image of you. I want every detail, Madara. Every single one. I am clear on this?"

Madara's stomach flutters when she hears this latest command, and she looks at the Prince with incredulous eyes. "If I...may ask why, my Lord? What is her purpose to be?" She laces her fingers together and clutches her hands tightly.

"I have my reasons. If you do this...perhaps I could be persuaded to extend your training time. So that you will make sure that you will not fail. You do know what will happen if you fail...do you not?" He says smiling.

Madara's lip quivers. "I do, my Lord. I will lose my chance at regaining my position-- which is the thing I want most of all," she says earnestly, leaning forward with shining, hopeful eyes.

The Prince shakes his head, "It is far more than that, and argue all you wish, Amalia-- who you allowed to be your voice-- has agreed to this...You will do far more than lose your position," he looks over to the bed and returns his gaze back to her. He smiles a hungry smile.

Madara's hands fall limply to her lap, and she sits back slowly and closes her eyes. So it is true what Amalia told her. She had been hoping that it was all a horrible joke, but here is the Prince right before her, telling her that it is all true. Perhaps she should ask the Prince for ALL of the conditions of her re-instatement...to hear him say them with his own lips.

"My Prince..." Madara's voice shudders as she exhales. "If you would please repeat the conditions for me, I would be able to get on with my training more...efficiently." Madara's hands move up to clutch the arms of the chair in dread.

The Prince nods and sits back, "You will learn the path of chivalry, and learn to control yourself. You will learn it inside and out. I have studied it for my unlife and I still know so little, Madara. Granting you more time is a boon I suggest you take."

Madara feels a part of herself shrieking in defiance. She has followed the ways of the Beast for almost 2 centuries! How can she possibly turn that around and pass this god-forsaken test that the Prince will put before her?? Her Childe...all the years they spent hunting together...the glory of warm blood fountaining across her mouth in the moonlight! But another part of herself-- the part that her sire thought he killed when he Embraced her-- cheers with relief and sings the praises of the life it once knew. She has no clan now...none. After hating what she was for so long, the Prince erased all her ties in one statement. But what would she be now??

Madara sighs. "Thank you, my Prince. I am grateful that you...give me this extra time to learn." Madara looks up boldly. "But who guards you now? Sleep is a long time in coming to me during the day, as I worry constantly about who has...taken over my duties." Madara finishes, keeping her eyes on the Prince.

"Do not be concerned about that. You keep to your studies-- I shall be safe, of course. Now if you would..." He says motioning to the woman.

Madara looks at the woman on the bed for a long moment, and then reluctantly stands and walks over to her. "I must do this to regain my position...and for Amalia and I..." she repeats in her head with every step. Then a new thought enters her mind. "Perhaps-- if I do a very good job with this body-- he will grow disinterested in me." Madara's eyes grow sharp as her resolve hardens. She throws the bedspread and sheets off the bed, and arranges the woman so she's flat on her back-- arms and legs open slightly. The woman is a little shorter than her...softer muscle-wise...she has black hair, but it's the same length as Madara's...her eyes are a darker brown than Madara's natural eye-color...Madara starts by stretching the woman's bones a little in the right places so that her arms, legs, torso, and neck are the same lengths as Madara's. Madara looks up-- all business-- and asks the Prince if he wouldn't mind having some ghouls fasten a large mirror to the ceiling?

Reynold nods, "Of course, of course," he says as he exits the room. Five minutes later he returns with a large mirror and attaches it to the ceiling.
"Do you wish to work undisturbed?"

Madara glances up at the Prince from the body. "When I work, I do not notice anything around me. Stay if you wish..." Madara pauses, "...although as my work nears its completion, I may ask you to turn your back..."

"Yes, yes of course. I have a plan, Madara. A plan I feel you will readily accept. I will reveal more of it as you continue to progress in your work. I know your hatred for the Tzimisce, Madara. I want you to know that I will not let Lord Jurgen discover your true clan. This is part of my plan you see." He says turning the chair a bit.

Madara freezes-- her hands holding the woman's wrist the way a potter might lightly cup the wet clay on a pottery wheel-- and looks at the Prince for a moment in surprise before returning to her sculpting. "I...thank you sincerely for that, my Lord. And...I am to say that I am Caitiff if I am asked, then?" Madara tucks a piece of loose hair behind her ear as she works on firming up the muscles in the woman's arm to match her own.

"Oh yes, you see the woman you are flesh-crafting will be you, Madara. And when you are done you will flesh-craft yourself to look completely different. You will have a new name and that new guise will be a caitiff, taken under wing by Amalia. Madara...the new Madara will be my childe. Lord Jurgen will see me as taking her back as a childe to teach her better. If he tests her, her blood will not only be Ventrue but mine as well. Once Lord Jurgen vouches your legitimacy as Ventrue, never again will you be tested." He says as he smiles at the brilliancy of his plan.
"And when the time is right you may flesh-craft her and yourself back to your original selves...so to speak. Hah! It is by far my greatest plan!"

Madara has unconsciously stopped what she is doing as she listens to the Prince's plan. Her first reaction is to protest-- she worked so HARD on her own appearance!! But she can always use the woman as a template if she needs to when crafting herself back...oh, but does she want to do this?? Then she realizes that it does not matter what she wants...and the Prince does have a seemingly flawless plan...

Madara begins to nod. "You are right-- it IS a good plan, my Lord...despite my natural apprehension. I will finish...the woman...and then go on to alter myself." Madara looks off into nothing for a moment as she tries to decide how she will make herself look, and then returns to her work, now sculpting the woman's leg-muscles.

"I understand, Madara, how hard you have worked upon your flawless physique, and that is why I wish this woman crafted perfectly. So you will have a template to recreate yourself. I also have a few portrait artists in my employ. If you wish I could have them portrait you from all angles so that you may have that as well to work from."

Madara feels the woman's presence in her head giggle in pleasure at the Prince's compliments, and a smile turns up the corner of her mouth, unwittingly. "I do thank you, indeed, my Prince, for your generous compliments, but as long as this woman's body stays intact, she will be a good enough template for my re-sculpturing." Madara turns back to the body, moving her hands over the abdoman carefully-- defining every muscle delicately-- and then as her hands move to the woman's breasts, she looks down at her own chest self-consciously as she realizes this woman is a little larger. "Breasts only get in the way when using a bow or swinging a sword," she mutters as she begins to mold down the woman's chest, oblivious of her surroundings.

Reynold smiles, "Yes, an athletic physique has it's particular uses." He cups his mouth in his hand and leans his chin upon it.
"You are a master at this, Madara. Perhaps one day you could work on my physique. I have always wished to be slightly taller." He stands up and walks over to watch her work.

Madara looks up to see the Prince standing just behind her and jumps slightly. When she realizes what she's working on, she tries to block his vision with her back. She quickly finishes, and then flips the woman onto her stomach-- touching up the backs of her legs and arms before moving to her back. She always leaves the head for last, so thus far the woman still does not have Madara's face. "Slightly taller..." Madara murmurs in answer to the Prince, kneading hard on the stubborn back-muscles. I could do that easily for you afterwards, my Prince," she says absent-mindedly.

The Prince continues to watch as he moves to the other side of the bed. He nods appreciatively as Madara skillfully turns muscle and bone to perfection.
"Perfection, absolute perfection. How do you perform this upon yourself? I see this as a form of sculpting, yes? But upon yourself it would be extremely difficult yes?"

Madara smiles and glances up before looking back down at the body-- never stopping her work. "Yes...yes it can be, my Lord. For example- " Madara motions to the woman laying before her. "-what I wouldn't give to be able to go outside of myself and work on my own body this way! It would be so much easier! However, Veni is quite skilled at body-crafting, himself, so I have him help me. In fact, if you want me to do a lot of altering to my body tonight, I may need him to be sent for..." Madara says, putting a finger to her lips and pausing in thought.

Reynold waves his hand, "No I do not think that will be necessary, just a change of hair color," he says touching her hair, "Eye color most definitely, since I have never seen eyes that color before." He says looking into her eyes, "I do not think I have ever seen that color before...wait...wait," he says shaking a finger, "Yes I have, yes I have."

Madara finds that she suddenly cannot take her eyes away from the Prince as a force seems to petrify her under his gaze, and then it's too late. That woman is gleefully running her mouth! "Why Reynold...I believe you are being sincere, for once! You leave me speechless, you old flatterer!" Madara's hand comes out and slaps the Prince lightly in the arm as she grins. But when she tries to move in to kiss the Prince, Madara firmly takes control and pulls herself back. The Prince sees her eyes blink in confusion for a moment, and then she turns back to the body, putting her hands on the next area to work on-- the buttocks-- and then pulling her hands back as if they've been shocked by electricity. "Um...ah...so, ah, where have you seen my eye-color before?" Madara tries to regain her composure as she sits back on her heels and quickly places her hands on her legs, not quite able to meet the Prince's eyes.

"It was back on my trip with my sire to Spain. You know I think it was the same trip that we bought your sword. Anyway I was still a ghoul at that time and we arrived in this small quaint little town just outside of Toledo. We would have continued on, however the sun was about to rise. We checked into this little tavern and when I finally helped my master to his rest I retired to my room. I swung the shutters open in my room and the sun was just coming up through the clouds, and they had a somewhat orange tint to them. The sunlight hit the side of the mountain and that...color just seemed to grow from it. And even though I was exhausted I just sat there in the still looking at that color," he says looking into her eyes, "I must have sat there for an hour or more just wishing that color wouldn't end-- that I must be imagining it-- for no shade of brown could be that beautiful. Now when I look into your eyes, I know it wasn't my imagination."

Madara's mouth drops open as she stares at the Prince. Could this man...be in love with her?? These are the types of loving endearments that she would only expect to hear from Amalia, and the Prince...she cannot tell for sure, but he seems to be sincere! She quickly backs off of the bed-- never taking her eyes off of him. "My Prince...that was...I am...well that was very beautiful, and I...really do not know what to say...I..." Madara starts walking backwards slowly until the back of her legs hit against an article of furniture, and she bends to catch it, and then stands quickly again. "I did not know you felt that way about me," she says, finally getting her thoughts together. "You understand that I am in love with Amalia...but I respect your courage in telling me what you were thinking." she says quickly.

"I know, and I would never think to destroy what you have with her. She must be very special to have you." He says as he returns to his chair and turns it to face towards the fire. He props his feet upon an ottoman and reaches over grabbing a book and begins to read it.
"I apologize for interrupting your work, please continue, I am not here."

Madara watches the Prince with her eyebrows raised. She begins to move towards him with her hand out to place on his shoulder, but her hand stops and she quickly lowers it. No, it is better to continue on with her work and get it done as quickly as possible without encouraging him. She walks back over to the bed-- grateful not to have the Prince's eyes on her for this part-- and begins sculpting the buttocks. When she's finished, she rolls the woman back onto her back and starts on the face. A simple touch to each eye and Madara has changed the woman's eye-color to, well, Madara's 'asounding' natural eye-color, according to the Prince! She smiles to herself, shaking her head slightly and glancing over in the Prince's direction.

Then she works on the actual face. It takes quite a bit of time, but Madara is a perfectionist, and she knows she has to get this exactly right for many reasons. Finally, she tries to find a way to prop the woman up so she can work on the rest of her head, but placing a pillow under the neck only distorts the angle, and she can't do it with one hand. She sighs and glances over at the Prince again reluctantly, but then finally clears her throat. "My Lord, I would appreciate a little assistance, if it would not trouble you too much?"

The Prince looks over and stands, putting the book down. He walks over to the bed and looks at Madara's work. He smiles and glances at her.
"Perfect," he says slapping his hands on his legs, "It's you...but not you. We shall see when you are done and she awakens." He says. The Prince kneels on the bed and looks up to Madara, "What do you need me to do?"

Madara nods throughtfully-- the Prince having reminded her of something. "When she awakens, you will have to...make her compliant so I can mold her vocal chords to match mine, as well. I will need her awake for that part so I can test them out as I go." Madara looks at the woman for a moment, and then directs, "Just kneel behind her head, put your fingertips on the back of her head and neck, and gently raise her up. Make sure you have a good hold, though."

Reynold nods and does as Madara directs, being very gentle not to awaken the sleeping woman. He raises her head with his hands and looks at Madara.
"Like this?"

Madara watches carefully and nods. "Perfect-- thank you, my Prince. Now...hold her steady..." Madara reaches forward and places her hands on the woman's face. She pushes her hands firmly back over the top of the woman's head to stop at the neck, and then starts from the face again and pushes firmly back around the sides of the head, and then again curving under the head and the back of the neck. She crawls across the bed to peer behind the head to inspect it, and then crawls back to the woman's side. Madara looks up at the Prince and gives a little smile.

"Now...watch this..." she says in a low voice. She takes her hands and-- stretching her thumbs and index fingers-- places her hands in this position to rest on the woman's hairline. Madara inhales and holds her breath, and then slowly moves her hands back across the woman's head. Where her hands have touched, light golden-blonde hair glows in their wake. Even Madara seems entraced as she changes the woman's nearly-black hair into light blonde. As Madara's hands move over the hair hanging from the head, she grips the hair in a ponytail, and pulls down slowly as if wringing water from the hair-- the blonde expanding until all the hair is yellow to the tips. Madara fans out the woman's new blonde hair and smiles. Then she looks up at the Prince. "You can let her head down now-- I thank you for your help, my Lord...what do you think?" Madara looks particularly pleased at her little trick.

Reynold watches with unfolding amazement and admiration as she changes the hair color. He lets the head down gently again. He moves out of Madara's way and looks over her shoulder at the new face. "I am amazed, Madara. How do you change the hair color? I understand the idea of sculpting, but hair color? Can you explain?"

Madara brushes off her hands and sits back on her heels. "I will try to explain-- it is a bit complicated!" Madara thinks for a moment. "I can only alter the colors of the body. I touch what I want to alter, concentrate on the color I want it to be, and it feels like my skin almost absorbs the old color-- leaving the new color in its wake. Does that make any sense?" Madara looks down at the woman's face, and her eyes narrow. Suddenly Madara flips onto her back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling-- studying the two faces side-by-side intently.

"Madara, you fool," she mutters, and rolls back onto her hands and knees and crawls over to straddle the woman's waist. She leans forward and starts making adjustments to the woman's face. When she's done, she sits up and squints at the face again, leans forward to touch up a few spots, sits up again, squints, and finally nods and brushes off her hands. "I seem to have given her some of my old facial features, but all is corrected now." Madara gestures at her face and then at the woman's. "Look, and tell me if you can see any difference now."

Reynold nods and gets onto the bed. He peers into the woman's face and takes her chin gently and turns her face the the left. He memorizes the details and the turns to the right and memorizes the details.
He sits up and takes Madara's chin and turns it to the right memorizing the details. He turns her chin to left and memorizing the details. He turns her chin to face him and looks over her face for a moment. "It's perfect, a perfect replication. I would love to see you sculpt other things-- have you tried clay work?"

Madara laughs. "No, not I. Too busy with..." Madara is about to describe her duties when she remembers that she has been relieved of them, and her face pales a little. "...with my studies." she finishes in a quiet voice. "Besides...I can only use my skills on flesh and bone. And there is a difference between altering something that already exists, and creating something from scratch." Madara explains, watching the Prince's face to see if her explanation made sense...and feeling a little nervous at the close proximity of their faces.

Reynold turns back to the woman. "By the way, the neck needs a little mole right here," he says touching the nape of the neck. "I'm not sure you noticed that." He climbs off the bed to allow Madara a better view.

Madara's fingers steal to her neck quickly at his words, and she runs over to peek in the mirror on his wall. She lets out a noise of frustration. How could she have missed that? And how did the Prince..." She flushes a little. He must notice EVERYTHING about her! She suddenly realizes that the Prince didn't have to look very long at her face when he was comparing the woman's to hers...what is going on here? After over 10 years of service, how long had he been "noticing" her this way??

Madara turns around and hurries over to climb back back on the bed and crawl over to the woman's neck. She places one of her fingers over the mole on her neck, and moves her other hand on the woman's neck until she finds the matching spot. In a second an identicle mole appears on the woman's neck. She sits back and glances at the Prince. "Why...WHY did he have this fascination with her?? It must be because he cannot have her. She remembers Giacova explaining that fact about men to her-- and she remembers feeling relieved that she would never fall prey to that. Well then, this woman might satisfy the Prince's fascination. Madara folds her arms and looks back up at the Prince. "My Lord...if you would kindly turn your back? I need to make some...intimate adjustments. That is, if you think it necessary to go that far." she says, feeling her face heat up.

"Ah," he says turning the chair once to face the fire. "Yes I believe it is necessary. And..." he thinks of a way to put it delicately, "Try to include...everything." He says siting back down and opening his book.
"I will keep my eyes averted."

Madara stares at his back in disbelief. EVERYTHING? Madara tightens her grip on her arms. "My Prince...are you saying that you want me to...make her into a maiden again?" She can't keep the note of disapproval out of her voice.

"Yes, she must be able to fool anyone who knows of you or your past. Frankly-- and tho' I am loathe to admit it-- Ventrue can be as gossipy as a woman's knitting circle." He says and buries his nose in the book once more.

Madara slits her eyes. "I do not see how anyone could have known about my past before 2 nights ago!" she exclaims, and then pauses to consider. It IS possible that Giacova could have...laughed about it to one of her lovers. She often teased Madara about her disinterest in men. Madara sighs. "Very well. She will be a maiden." Madara grumbles to herself as she finds a chair and slides it over to the bed, sitting down and pulling the woman's torso closer to the edge of the bed by the legs. Madara positions herself between the woman's legs, and closes her eyes. She has NEVER been asked to do THIS before! "God forgive me..." she murmurs as she leans over and inserts her first two fingers into the woman's vagina with a grimace. In a few moments a new hymen has been created, and Madara quickly removes her fingers and sits back, wishing she were anywhere but here.

When she's recovered her composure, she looks down at the woman, and then leans down to look closer. She sighs and stands. "If you will excuse me for a second, my Prince..." Madara doesn't even wait for an answer, but grabs the hand-mirror off the Prince's dresser and quickly walks into his spacious closet and shuts the door behind her. If she doesn't even know exactly what she looks like, herself, how can she craft the woman? Madara remains in the closet for a few minutes, and when she emerges she looks embarrassed and her clothes are a bit askew. She places the hand-mirror back on the dresser as she passes it, and sits back in front of the woman. While the picture is fresh in her mind, she quickly alters the color of tissue and hair, as well as the shape, size, and appearance of the area. When her work is done, she walks over to the wash basin and begins washing her hands-- looking a little peaked.

Reynold turns towards Madara and sees her pale-faced and a bit shakey. He stands and takes her by the arm gently. He leans closer to her a bit.
"I'm sorry to have asked you to do that. But you must understand, Lord Jurgen is a thorough man. If anything is out of place, especially something such as that..." He helps her to a chair and slides his chair to face her. He pours some blood into a glass and warms it over the fire.
"Here drink this, it will make you feel better."

Madara takes the vitae gratefully and quickly drinks it. "Warm...he warmed it for you the way you prefer it to be!" the woman's voice points out excitedly. Madara glances at he Prince over the glass as she drains it. "Ah, but the the Prince always warms his vitae before drinking it, as well," she remembers...and it was part of her job to notice that. She sits back in the chair, letting her hand fall onto her lap. "Thank you, my Prince...I just need a few moments to let my head clear. I DO understand why you had me do it...it was just the first time I have ever had to do something like that, and it was...a little unnerving." Madara runs a hand over her eyes and exhales.

"Ah understandable, understandable. I admire your strong will to do this, I can only imagine how difficult it must be. Ah but let us relax first before you do the finishing touches. How do your studies go? Has Amalia given you any books on the subject?" he asks excitedly.

Madara sits up a little and smiles. "You may not know this, but Sister Florentia came to me about a week ago and helped me to see the error of my ways...convinced me to study the beliefs of Chivalry and start adhering to them. That very night I went to the castle library and read all the most basic explanations of the beliefs that I could...I found "The Chivelric Code," "The Chivelric Code of War," and the "Chivelric Code of Courtship," amoung others. I was excited because over the years I have actually started following the ways of Chivalry naturally...my Lord," she says, bowing her head to show the Prince how true her words are...maybe awaken in his eyes the revelation that she has always tried to be extremely respectful of him. "The Beast was the curse given to me by my Sire, but I must overcome it." Madara pauses. "I was never meant to be Tzimisce." Her eyes unfocus a little as memories of her abduction come unwanted to her mind.

"How very true, Madara. How very true. Your actions speak volumes and underneath this vinear of the Tzimisce you have always been a Toreador to me," he says with a smile. He stands up and pours himself a glass of blood and warms it and returns to his chair.
"Even though it has only been a few days, Madara, I miss having you as my scourge."

Madara stares at Reynold and her mouth drops open. She suddenly feels hope surge through her heart where there had been nothing but dispair for the past two days. The woman's voice cheers in excitement, yet Madara thinks she may detect a hint of sadness or emotion to it, as well. "Oh my Prince! It gives me such joy to hear those words!! Such joy..." Madara gets a fierce look in her eyes and leans forward. "I will not fail you, my Lord. No one can serve you as efficiently or energetically as I can!" Despite Madara's look of determination, Reynold can see a hint of red tears in the corners of her eyes.

"How well am I reminded of that when you are gone. I do not believe you will fail, Madara," he chuckles, "I believe you will learn the road so well you could teach my sire a few things, as well." He sits back and sips the blood-- enjoying it a moment. He gets a thoughtful look upon his face and leans towards her conspiritorily.
"I have a little confession for you."

Madara leans back in her chair and stiffens up a little bit. "Y-yes, my Prince?" she asks in a voice that sounds higher than normal.

"When my sire Ivan was Prince of York, he selected me to be the scourge. I served him for oh...roughly a century. I, too, made mistakes, trusted the wrong people, let my devotion to him cloud my judgment. I know how you feel, Madara, I have been there too, but you are far better than I had ever been," He says nodding his head a bit.

Madara looks at the Prince in surprise. "I...had no idea! My Prince, you do me too much honor with your praise and compliments! I-- thank you, Lord...thank you..."

"KISS him, you fool!" the woman suddenly shrieks in her head, and Madara closes her eyes tightly. "If you don't, I WILL!" The woman sounds frustrated and angry, and Madara is suddenly on her feet. "My Lord...ah, perhaps I should return to my work." she says hastily.

Reynold nods and motions to the bed leaning back. He sighs and picks up his book.
"Yes of course, please-- I apologise for disturbing you. Let me know if I can be of further assistance."

"Look! You hurt him! Apologize!" the woman's voice yells, and Madara sees her arm lift and feels her feet carry her over to the Prince. She sees her hand fall onto the Prince's shoulder, and then the woman suddenly releases her control of Madara voluntarily, but Madara can feel her waiting and watching. "I...I am sorry, m-my Lord," Madara stammers. "You are not disturbing me-- I did not mean to sounds so rude a moment ago." she finishes quickly, and then almost as quickly, removes her hand from his shoulder and clenches both hands together.

Reynold turns his head over his shoulder looking up at her. He gives her a reasurring smile, "Oh no you are not being rude, Madara. You wish to finish her and yourself and get back to Amalia," he smiles.

Madara smiles down at the Prince with a look of sympathy on her face. Ever since Florentia's talk with her, she's felt the sudden need to be a caretaker-- and now that she pays attention, she can feel the Prince's hurt, but refrains from prying any further. "Perhaps there is some truth to that..." Madara says, feeling her heart grow warm at the thought of seeing Amalia. "And maybe I am anxious to get back to my training so I can return to my post more quickly, as well."

Madara turns and walks back over to the bed. Before the woman awakens, she needs to make sure the bodies are a perfect match. "Do not turn around for a few minutes..." she calls. Watching the Prince carefully to make sure he's going to comply, she quickly strips off all her clothing and flops on the bed next to the woman. She activates her heightened vision and stares at their reflections in the mirror on the ceiling. She moves the woman's arms and legs and torso this way and that, inspecting them from every angle compared to hers. She does a few minor touch-ups...adds a little more muscle-definition here and there...changes the hairline a bit...and the ears...finally Madara cannot see anything else to change. The body is finished-- other than the vocal chords. She lays on the bed looking at the twin reflections, and then starts wondering what this woman is going to go through when she wakes up. And what did the Prince mean by Jurgen not being as merciful...and about the virginity being tested??

"My Prince," Madara calls in concern, her hands resting on her stomach as she looks at the woman's reflection in concern. "What exactly is going to happen to this woman? Is she going to be given to Jurgen-- is that why every detail has to be so exact? Or is she...meant for someone else's bed?" Madara doesn't want to anger the Prince with more questions about his sleeping-habbits, but she suddenly feels very protective of this unconscious woman now that she wears her body and face! "I do not mean to anger you, but she should be...treated delicately now." Madara reaches over and takes the woman's hand, still looking up at their reflections in amazement.

Reynold places a mark in the book and puts it down. He stands and turns seeing the two "Madara's" laying upon the bed in their charms. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open. He snaps quickly out of it and turns to face the wall.

"My Prince?" Madara asks, and then takes her eyes off of the mirror and glances over to see the Prince standing facing the wall awkwardly. "Oh no, I was not even thinking-- he must have turned around!" she thinks in horror. Madara jumps up and quickly puts her riding pants and shirt back on. "It is all right, your majesty-- you can turn around. I was not thinking-- I apologize."

"No no," he says his hand at his hip motioning towards her. "I was not prepared...for such...beauty," he chuckles. "Had I been a Toreador I should think I would have been destroyed. I...yes I understand your concern for her. No she will not be Lord Jurgen's...I do not believe so. I will fight it if he tries anything however I cannot lie to you in saying that such a thing will never happen. If it comes to the city or his bed, I would much rather this decoy to do it than you. I would rather the city than that."

Madara stands speechless-- she cannot believe what she just heard the Prince say! The woman's voice is even seemingly speechless! While Madara is thus distracted, the woman snatches control away like a striking snake and runs Madara over to the Prince's side. Her hand comes out and grabs the Prince's arm-- turning him to face her-- and she grabs his face in her hands and...comes a bare breath away from kissing him when Madara grabs control back with a mental-shriek and stops her lips mere millimeters from the Prince's.

She knows who the woman is now...this whole time she thought it must be a punishment from whatever god was out there punishing and rewarding at his pleasure, but now she knows. It is Giacova! Somehow-- when she absorbed Giacova's very soul-- her old mistress and Prince suddenly took up residence in her head! "DAMN her! How...?" Madara wonders in anguish, making a mental-note to ask Amalia about this when she returns!

Reynold is taken by surprise at Madara's passionate embrace. He reacts to it pulling her close to him and stops, seeing her eyes wander away somewhere else. He takes her hands and clasps them together lowering them.
"Madara stop...stop...your heart belongs to another," he says as he bows his head and gazes back into her eyes. "I have taken too much from you Madara, I will not take that away as well," he says turning his back to her and sliding his chair once more in front of the fire.
"Let this be my path-lesson to you Madara-- sometimes one must make a decision that is best for others than what would be best for you..." he says as he sits back down.

Madara feels herself go numb as she realizes what Giacova almost made her do...and when she absorbs the Prince's words-- oh God. She reaches out and pats around until she finds the arm of the chair she had been sitting in, grabs it, and falls into the chair. He...he never meant to carry out his threat against she and Amalia...and...he...loves her. Madara is dumbfounded. Is this the same prince who was shouting in her face a couple of days before?? Who took away her position...her home...? Who sleeps with an unending supply of noblewomen?? She slowly turns her head to look at the Prince, and sits staring like that for a minute. Then she gets up and walks over to the bed, looking down at the woman-- almost not seeing her as her thoughts whirl.

Finally she walks over to the foot of the bed and finds the clothing the woman came in with. She quickly gathers them up and walks back to where the woman lays. She glances at the Prince, but he seems to be engrossed in his book...although she knows better now. She quickly takes her shirt and breeches back off, and slips on the woman's petticoats, dress, stockings, and shoes. The dress is a little on the baggy-side, but a bit too short in length...the shoes a little tight. No matter. She takes up her clothing and begins dressing the woman in them. They fit perfectly, thank God. When she's done, she looks down at the woman before her and feels a pang of nervousnses race through her. What if the woman does not want to give up her new identity when the time comes? What if...oh nevermind, the Prince can take care of her memories. Madara tries to calm herself and steel-up for what she will have to do soon.

She walks back over to the Prince and kneels next to his chair. "My Lord...you are a good and honorable man, and I thank you for being strong for the both of us." Madara adds a quick mental-curse aimed at Giacova before continuing on. "I...do not understand something, I must confess. If you feel this way, why do I never find you without a woman leaving your room grinning like a fool?"

"Hmm?" he turns from the book, "Oh yes." he says putting down the book in his lap. He sighs, thinking for a moment, bringing his fingers to his lips. "The scourge is a lonely position is it not? When I was scourge I was more feared than loved, more respected than well-liked. I assume you know what I speak of. Now imagine being Prince, Madara. Who do you trust? Who do you allow to share your most intimate thoughts, your fears, your insecurities? I have travelled the world, most of the time by myself. There would be months when I wouldn't see a soul, except my faithful steed..." He sighs, "And yet here I am surrounded by those I respect and by the mortals I govern, and this is by far the loneliest of paths I have ever walked."

Madara sits and thinks for a moment. "I know what you mean, my Lord. When my sire took me and kept me as his prisonor, I went years without seeing anyone except for his ghouls-- who I knew would betray me at a moment's notice. Then again these past 10 years...perhaps longer than that...maybe the entire time I was with Giacova after she rescued me, I felt the sting of loneliness. Amalia...my one light in all the blackness. I would die for her..." Madara trails off, looking at her hands.

He nods staring into the fire, "You are very lucky. Love comes to so few of us," he picks up his book and continues to read.

Madara suddenly realizes how cruel that must have been for the Prince to hear. "I am sorry, my Prince. I forgot myself for a moment-- I did not mean to throw salt in your wounds. I would as readily die for you, and I know you know that." Madara stands. "I believe it is time to awaken...'Madara,'" Madara says hesitantly. "And time for me to give myself a new name."

Reynold stands and walks over to the sleeping woman. Sitting on the bed next to her he leans down.
"Awake.'" He says. She sits up and her eyes seem a little blank.
"Now say 'My name is Madara.'"

Madara kneels down in front of the woman-- understanding what the Prince is doing-- and places a hand on the woman's throat. The Prince has so completely sedated the woman with his powers that she speaks, despite what Madara is doing. The voice is lower than Madara's-- a little harsher, as well. Running her finger and thumb up the sides of the woman's throat, she strips away the excess material. Madara waits, and the Prince commands the woman to speak again. After a couple more adjustments, the voice is just the right pitch. "Now she will just need to learn my way of speaking...my inflections and habbits. That, I cannot do with simple flesh-crafting." Madara reaches up and thickens the woman's eyelashes with a few flicks of her fingers. "Poor creature..." she thinks. She looks up at Reynold. "What would you have done now, my Prince?"

"We will give her a bit of your memories," he takes the woman's chin and brings her eyes to his, "Now Madara, your favorite color is violet. I am your sire. I embraced you one hundred eighty-nine years ago." he continues on as how she spent her life as a Cainite. "You usually wear utilitarian clothes-- earth tones especially-- tho' when there is a ball or formal dance you dress splendidly. You are back under my tutalege after you left my side to join Giacova in her travels." He smiles and nods to Madara. "Anything else?"

Madara looks at the Prince in amazement. "How...how did you know my favorite color was violet??" She shakes her head and quickly thinks about what she would want this woman to know. After a time she leans in and whispers to the Prince about how she's been secretly taking voice lessons...she explains to him about how to find someone's colors so they know what to dress in...she explains about party-throwing, as well as what she knows about security and warfare. When she's done telling the Prince all the things she thinks 'Madara' will need to know, she sits back up and listens as the Prince uses his manipulation of memory to transfer these memories over to the woman.

"Now sleep," he says as woman goes limp into his arms. He sets her gently upon his bed and pulls the covers over her. "She will sleep the rest of the night. Your turn, I do believe. I will, of course, turn my back so I see nothing." He begins to walk around Madara, rubbing his chin and thinking of changes she should make to herself.

Madara gets nervous when she sees the Prince circling her...worried that he's going to tell her to make herself look like how the woman used to. She, personally, did not find the woman that attractive before. Besides, she already has ideas! "My Prince-- if I may? I have already decided on how I will alter my face, hair, and eyes...if it pleases you?" Madara bows her head respectfully, and then looks up at the Prince with hopeful eyes.

Reynold nods, "Excellent, well then I shall leave it to your capable hands," he says sitting in the chair and opening the book.
"And as for your favorite color, whenever there is a ball or something formal, you change your eyes to violet."

Madara stares at the Prince with her mouth open. "How...he...he noticed that??" she thinks in amazement. Despite herself, she feels a pleased blush creep through her flesh. The Prince surprises her more and more with all the things he HAS noticed! But...why her? What can he possibly see in her? She's nothing like the women he always chooses to be with! Madara watches the Prince with a furrowed brow, and then turns and walks over to the dressing table and sits down in front of the mirror. First she inspects her complexion. "Let us make it even whiter...almost as while as Amalia's beautiful skin..." she thinks, and as she runs her hands across her face, the skin left behind is almost pure white.

Next she takes her hair out of its braid and fans it across her shoulders and down her back. She smiles an excited smile, closes her eyes, and then begins moving her hands back from her hairline across her head-- gathering the hanging hair in a ponytail, and continuing to move her hands tightly down the hair until it again falls around her arms. She opens her eyes and lets out a delighted cry. Her hair is now a firey auburn-red! She got the idea for trying out this color when she was helping Romaine get cleaned up for...the Prince. Madara glances at the Prince again, wondering if he slept with Romaine, but then gazes at her hair again. It's much lighter and brighter than Romaine's, and she can't seem to stop staring at it.

"Aaah-- now for the eyes!" she thinks as she glances at her reflection and notices how dark they are when compared with the rest of her new coloring. She closes her eyes and gets a mental-picture of the sky at noon when there are no clouds. Once the picture is firmly in her mind, she touches each eye with a fingertip, and suddenly her eyes are the lightest, clearest, sparkling blue that she has ever seen. She looks at the completed picture in the mirror with the satisfaction of an artist who has just finished her masterpiece. After a moment, she's finally able to tear her eyes away, and quickly stands and disrobes. She looks at the skin-color of her face, and how eerily it contrasts with the rest of her body, and begins to move her hands across every inch of skin on her body, starting with the neck and shoulders. When she finally finishes with her feet, she stands up straight again and looks over everything before nodding and getting dressed again. Every freckle...every mole...all gone. She is as a blank canvas. She turns to face the Prince once she's back in the woman's dress. "My Lord? Come meet Lucia Balan!" She stands proudly in anticipation.

Reynold stands with his finger keeping his place in the book. He turns to look at Madara and is stunned at her work. He carefully puts the book down and walks to her. He takes her hair in his hands. "Nice color-- very different from your natural shade. He lets the hair pass through his fingers as he walks around to face her. He takes her chin in hand.
"The eye color is a nice change as well. The skin coloring...you look irish, Madara. Well done." He says crossing his arms and looking her over.
"Your physique is still the same however."

Madara smiles, very pleased at all the Prince's praise-- his fingers running through her hair gave her goosebumps, and...it is...not unpleasant. She quickly pushes those thoughts aside, feeling guilty, and hears the Prince's last comment. She looks down at her body, feeling shamed that she was so excited to show him her face that she neglected to change her body. "Aah...you are right, my Lord. I am sorry-- I seem to have gotten a little excited over my work and stopped prematurely. What would you suggest I change?"

"Hmmm," he says thinking, "Well perhaps a bit more meat. Not so lean. I do not want you out of fighting-form, however I do not wish you to be easily detected. A bit more chubbiness, perhaps a bit more bosom...perhaps a size or so larger, your hair a tad shorter to the shoulders." He circles her, stopping at her back. "A bit more buttock. Perhaps like a woman who has been well fed, perhaps a child or two eh?"

Madara gives the Prince an exasperated look. "My Prince...a breeding woman?? I am still a Cainite, do not forget! I will add some...softness to my body to hide the muscle, but a breeding woman?? I do not want Amalia to...to not be attracted to me any longer!" Madara says, sounding very nervous and agitated.

"Of course, of course do what you think is best, Madara," he says as he goes to his chair. "When your change is complete let me know. I have something for you when you are done."

Madara looks at the Prince curiously with her eyebrows raised. "What could it be??" she wonders, her pulse-rate increasing. She quickly walks back over to the table and slips off her clothes. She looks at her body and sighs. She worked hard on this body-- and not just through flesh-crafting, either! She looks down at her chest, and then back at the mirror. She places her hands under her breasts, closes her eyes, and slowly increases her breasts until they are...well, quite a handful. She opens her eyes and looks down...and her eyebrows raise. Hmm...not too bad! She stands sideways in the mirror and admires her new silouette.

She turns back to face forwards, and gently moves her hands across her stomach and hips-- making her stomach-muscles disappear from view, and her hips grow wider. She does the same in back, and then turns to look over her shoulder. Hmmm...many painters these days seem to prefer a woman with such a body...and she can see the merits to it. She finishes by running her hands down her arms and legs to cover the muscle-definition there, and then stands and inspects her body from every angle. Not bad...not bad! A little...less-efficient for fightintg, but perhaps more efficient...with Amalia? She giggles and her face reddens, and then she bends down to pull the pettycoat and dress back on. Oh dear...a little tight now. Her breasts strain at the bodice of the dress, and she now has...wow, cleavage! The dress comes in at the waist, and the hips are plainly filling out the next part of the dress. Well this is not bad at all! She again inspects herself in the mirror, and finally calls the Prince to come have a look.

He stands and turns towards her and smiles, "Madara," he says with a pause as he puts his hand to his chest and bows, "My lady Lucia, you are looking beautiful tonight." He chuckles and claps his hands in applause. "Well done, well done Madara. You are the finest crafter in all of Hungary. Now," he says as he walks over to the chest by the foot of the bed. He opens it and Madara can see several pieces of finely polished armor. He begins to sort through the armor trying to get at something from the bottom of the chest. He raises and shakes his head.
"I'll have to unpack all this, a moment Madara." He says as he begins to lay out the armor on the bed.

Madara gets up on her tip-toes to try to see what the Prince is searching for-- her hands clasped in front of her. Then she gives up and steps over to inspect the armor he's laying out on the bed. She instinctively bends down to touch the pieces and turn them over in her hands. "My Lord...I do not think I have ever seen you wear this! This armor is very, very fine! Where did you get it, and why do you never wear it?" Madara looks up at the Prince in surprise, holding a gauntlet in her hands.

"Ah my sire Ivan gave that to me when I was given the post of scourge," he says laying out the breastplate. It is finely crafted and only the scratches and a few dings upon the red lion crest denotes its age. It is a chain shirt with plate upon the chest and back.
"I haven't worn it in ages, a shame really." He pulls out the last of the armor and reaches in to take out a sword. It, too, is finely crafted with a red gem in it's pommel. He takes it out of the sheath and smiles.
"I used to wear this at my side every day for a century..." he lays that next to the armor. He continues to rummage.

Madara places the gauntlet carefully back on the bed, and looks at the sword. She reaches forward and picks it up-- taking a step backwards and making a couple of practice-swings. "Very nice, my Lord...a bit shorter and lighter than I am used to using now..." Madara smiles, "...but the perfect sword to compliment a good shield." She admires the red gem in the pommel. Without looking up, she begins to speak. "Your Sire must have cared for you a great deal...with so many possible Sires in the world, you are lucky to have had such a one." Madara looks up. "Where is he now? Do you have much contact with him?"

"We write from time to time. The last I saw of him was the day I left. Ah I have found it!" He says excitedly. "I was polishing this armor the other night when I stumbled across this and immediately thought of you," he says with a smile. He hands her a very old book. The cover is a bit worn but she can make out the carving of a knight. "My sire's sire's sire made this. My sire gave it to me the day I left his tutelage. I now give it to you."

Madara looks up at the Prince. "My Lord! Are you certain that you want to give this to me? Surely you would want to save this for a...real Childe someday, considering its lineage!" She looks down and passes her hand across the carving. "I...do not understand your great favor with me at times, my Lord. I am but your loyal subject-- nothing compared to the beauties who come and go from this place, or the power that Amalia and Sister Florentia possess." Madara holds the book tightly and looks up. "My Prince, what is it?"

"It is the tales of King Arthur and his knights. My sire's sire's sire wrote it. I believe he was alive at that time and wrote down the stories of the people. I have read the chivalric code books you have mentioned and they are indeed fine books. However everything I ever learned about chivalry, I learned from this book. Read it, study it. It's a good set of stories as well," he smiles and begins to pack the armor and sword back into the chest.
"My favor for you Madara is that in all this world, you have proven yourself loyal, trustworthy and the most prized...person I have ever encountered," he says his back to her. "As for the beauties you see in and out of this room. They are only beauty as far as you can see. You are far the beautious in what you cannot see."

Madara gazes down at the book as the Prince speaks-- finally opening the cover and gasping at what she sees. The cover may be worn, but the pages within shine with illuminations. Bright colors-- lapis lazuli, surely-- as well as leaf-gold! She sees drawings of each of the knights' tales, and begins flipping through faster and faster. It is a rare treasure...and she cannot wait to get started on reading it!!

Then she hears the Prince answer her previous question...about why he favors her so...and with his first explanation she feels rooted to the spot with relief and joy!! He values her and trusts her! Her old position is surely as good as hers again...once she completes the test!
Then as he finishes his explanation, she feels herself blush deeply, and keeps her eyes on the book. "Your majesty...I would almost feel that you knew more about me than I know of, myself, with such..." Madara pauses, "...such flattering words! But if you could see inside me at times, you might think different of me." Madara suddenly realizes that she might be jeopardizing her chance at passing the test by revealing such thoughts to the Prince, and clears her throat.

"I am MOST anxious to read this book! It is...an incredible and rare treasure! I will construct a case for it that will protect it always when I am done reading it...the first time." Madara smiles and finally looks up. "Thank you, my Lord. Thank you." She holds the book to her chest, and her eyes shine with gratitude.

Reynold smiles putting his hand on her back as he walks her to the door. "I will see you for your test in six months. Now go and read this book I am anxious to hear your thoughts upon it," he says nodding. He opens the door and stops short of leaving the room. "Ah almost forgot," he walks back and gently picks up 'Madara' and carries her to the room next to his. He lays her upon the bed and run out quick, grabbing a servant. "If you would clothe the lady Madara for bed." He closes the door after the servant and nods to Madara.
"Ah I believe I'll return to my book now. Good day to you, my lady," he says bowing.

Madara is about to set the book down to help the Prince with the woman when she realizes that she should be acting differently now. She stands and watches everything with wide eyes, feigning curiosity and amazement. When the Prince addresses her as 'my lady,' her first reaction is confusion, and she has to remind herself again that she is no longer Madara. She curtsies deeply-- glancing down and noticing her generous cleavage and grinning self-consciously. "My Prince," she murmurs, and turns quickly and walks down the corridor.

Once she is sure that no one is watching her, she cloaks herself in invisibility and hurries down the backway. She realizes it will probably be a little more work to get the stable-boy to hand over Nanesti to her this time...and then in mid-thought she pauses. She is just passing the kitchens now, and thought she heard the Prince's name mentioned. She quickly slides next to the wall and presses her back against it, trying to hear what the women are saying. "Traitorous confessions are most-often revealed when people are gossiping with friends," Madara thinks, snapping into her bodyguard-role without realizing it.

Madara peeks through the doorway to see two young beautiful women fixing tea. The taller one smiles to the other and giggles.
"So it's your turn tonight eh?" She says.
"It is," the shorter one says putting the tea carafe on a silver serving plate. The other one nudges her.
"Think anything will happen tonight, oh he is a handsome one."
"Of course not, Elle. All he ever wants to do is talk. 'How was your day?' 'How is the castle running?' 'What do you think of the new church?' Why, did he do anything with you?"
"No," the other one says her shoulders slumping, "Maybe he fancies the boys eh?" she says and they break up laughing.

Madara's jaw drops open and she puts her palms against the cold stone, feeling herself grow a little dizzy. What is going on around here? For over 10 years she has served the Prince, and thought she had him pegged! All his actions up until now SEEMED to be those of a lecherous, insatiable man! So often she would be asked into his chambers, only to find him standing there all but naked-- and with that look on his face! And everytime she found him like that, there would undoubtably be some whore...well...maybe not a whore...but some woman scurrying out giggling! She would dearly love to hurry into the kitchen and question the women further, but that would be very unwise...especially considering that she forgot to change her voice. She stands there-- her mind awhirl-- for quite some time before finally walking slowly out to the stable to dominate the stableboy into forgetting that she was ever there.