Marceline does not bother to remain circumspect in the affection she gives, and so Asmodeus does not hold onto the pretense of distance either. He leans into her embrace, reaching to return the favor, trailing his own dusky muzzle up the plane of her forehead to the small upside-down V where her forelock began.

If Nyimara were to witness such casual affection, it would likely cause problems between them but he found his desire to care dampened by the continued presence of Swyk. She had betrayed him first, so who was she to begrudge him seeking his affection from mares that had not betrayed the promises they'd made.

Nevermind that Asmodeus had never been entirely faithful to the silver-maned mare, any more than she had been to him. He was not unaware that he had not been the only one to approach the silver-maned mare that first season, just as he was not foolish enough to believe Marceline had not had a bevy of other suitors every time they met as well. They were powerful, respected mares and he knew beyond a doubt that he was not the only one who admired them both for their capability as much as for their beauty.

She claims boredom and he smirks, huffing a small laugh. Asmodeus had a hard time picturing the Prime Minister of the Peak ever being truly bored, especially one as driven and motivated as Marceline. It would be far easier to believe she had become dissatisfied than that she had become bored, but he didn't dwell on such reasons, not when it was so much more pleasurable to assume that the true reason for her visit had less to do with boredom and more to do with him.

Her question gives him only a moment of pause, a rueful smirk touching his lips briefly. "I pretend to accept no when I must," he murmured, thinking of the same example she had and of the first time he had ever attempted to court her, before he'd even been worth her notice. "But I never stop working for what I want."

Asmodeus' lips brushed across her forehead in emphasis as he said the last line, assuming she had not moved away. He froze momentarily as she mentioned a daughter - their daughter - and his eyes gleamed with a sudden and unexpected burst of pride. The tobiano chimera had never been particularly paternal. He did not wish to raise a large family of needy infants with their dependent mothers, but that did not mean he did not crave a legacy of his own. One built on the shoulders of children born from strong and independent mares who would have double the chance of inheriting the sort of traits that took an individual from mediocrity to notoriety.

"I imagine if our daughter is anything like her mother she'll manage just fine," he murmured, although even he recognized the fact that it was highly hypocritical of him to not be angered by the situation given his ire with Nyimara for leaving Cahyr alone. Granted, Marceline had not garnered quite the same reputation, at least that he'd seen, nor did Asmodeus truly believe that she had left the child without any guardian the way that his once-Queen had.

Plus she was here, with him. And even Asmodeus was enough of a man to admit that it was hard to think with Marcy here, especially with her close enough to touch and the memories of last season and the time they had spent together hovering so near the surface of his mind.

"I've been busy thinking of you," he teased, casting an appreciative gaze her way before gesturing briefly in the direction of the oasis. The tobiano remained quiet for a step or two before opting to actually answer her question. "And thinking of the things I said to you the first time," he smirked, the smile slow across his lips, "the first time you bothered to listen, that is."

He had spoken obliquely of what he wanted in a partner back then, when Nyimara's absence had been fresh and most irritating. And while he had not held out true hope of tempting Marceline from her lofty perch in the Peak, he would not have been able to live with himself if he hadn't at least tried. "It turns out that Salem is less receptive to the idea of a monarchy than I had first suspected." His muzzle wrinkled briefly, belying his mild annoyance at how long the process was taking.

Shaking his head as they arrived at the water, Asmodeus gestured for her to drink first before speaking again. "But what of your exploits? What occupies your days other than our darling daughter?"

That flicker of curiosity in his voice could not be dampened and he wondered if their child was more like him or her mother. If she was bright and wild or cold and calculating. If she'd made more friends or enemies, or if she was showing any kind of promise at all. But he caged those questions behind his teeth for now, content to let their conversation drift toward whatever it was that had brought the proud mare he admired back to his shores.

Adult Stallion 16.0HClassic Champagne ChimeraSolomon x Xiomara