Fantasy ⭺Of Blood and Gold⭼

[Wert]

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OF BLOOD AND GOLD

「The Price of Nobility 」

The light of sunset pouring in through the castle windows worked as a clock for the inhabitants roaming it's halls. After all, there's a banquet being held to welcome Freland's guests. Many of the attendants have already arrived to Hoellan, but an official welcome is in place for the majority. Decorations lined the entire area from the throne room to the dining hall with hues of red, white, and gold. Tables filled with food and drink covered parts of the intricate tiled floor, and many nobles of Freland stood in conversation with cups of wine clasped in their hands. Even the guards stationed at every door wore the colors of their kingdom in some form, nearly blending in with the beautiful, candle-lit decor. Music played from the band nestled in the corner near the king's throne, beckoning people to join the dancers on the floor.

Season: Late Spring​

Weather: Warm and Humid​

Time of Day: Evening​

template by astraea​

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[Wert]

Madeline, Rowana, and Christine
Nimble fingers tugged at her brunette hair as it was knotted into an intricate half braid by Rowana. Madeline's own hands drifted over the soft dress that hung from her body, its ivory and champagne layers tied together with various lightweight metals at her waist. It was a simple yet elegant traditional dress and one of the ones that offered more coverage than some. "I feel strange wearing this outside of home," Madeline spoke to her Lady, knowing her attire was a little immodest by Freland's standards. Just as the braid was finished her lady sunk her finger's below Madeline's jaw and gently raised it upwards, as if to reassure her while she responded. "You usually wear them with pride, Madeline, don't let Freland change that," The tinge of sadness in Rowana's words made the young queen feel guilty, but only for a moment. As usual, her lady knew exactly what to say to pull Madeline from anxiousness. She stood up from the wooden chair, shoes shifting against the tiled floor as she turned to Rowana.

A caring smile crept across her lips as she took in the look of her dear friend. She was clothed in a pink rose colored gown that draped along her form. Rowana's dusky, curling hair was pulled up neatly into a braided bun and decorated with a few simple golden hair pins. It wasn't required for her ladies to wear traditional gowns during celebrations, and although Rowana chose to wear one still. "You look lovely," Madeline complimented, but Rowana merely waved her hand at the notion with a smile. She moved from her Lady and grabbed the golden leaf crown ornament from the vanity behind her, working with Rowana to tuck it into the braids in the Queen's hair. It was thin, only meant to mimic a crown so she wouldn't be disrespectful to the rulers of Freland. The young queen was waiting for Rowana to finish placing the Lady's own cloak around her shoulders when another presence joined them.

"We're going to be late," a familiar voice chimed in when Rowana finished. Christine stood at the now unlatched door to Madeline's chambers with Madeline's cloak hung over her arm and Oleander standing at her side. Christine was dressed in dark champagne colored gown, complimenting her matron's own dress. It was simplistic, only just passable as a gown for an official celebration. Christine had added to this with gold jewelry and a well-placed flower pin in her wavy hair. "Shall we?" Madeline spoke as she moved towards the door, placing the soft cloak around herself when she made it to Christine. Her ladies followed after her when she vacated the room and headed to where the celebration is being held.
-

They made it just before the queen and king gave their speech to welcome everyone to Freland. Madeline clapped and took to the tables of food afterwards, taking a thinly sliced cake from one of the trays and eating it. Hazel eyes glanced around the room, seemingly searching for a familiar face. In reality it was more of her trying to put faces to names since she hadn't met most of the other royals invited, and the ones she had met were when she was too young to remember now. Rowana gestured for her to come over and she followed, standing next to her friend with part of the cake between her fingers.

"Maddie, use a plate," Rowana said between a stifled giggle and a scolding tone, quickly grabbing one of the metallic dishes from the table and handing it too her queen. "Don't forget, we need to thank them for welcoming us tonight."

Madeline took the plate and put the rest of the cake on it with a half smile, "Thank you." She isn't quite used to being away from home yet, forgetting for a moment that the lax nature of Setlain differs from some others. The people dancing on the floor dispersed when the music changed to a fast paced tune, others taking their place. "I will, I haven't forgotten." The two stood, conversing with each other about the decor.

Christine watched Rowana scold Madeline and gave an amused smile before she turned her attention to Oleander. After a moment of observing her friend she wrapped her arm around the lady's own and spoke, "Ollie, I could really use some refreshment! Will you join me?"

Interactions
Madeline & Rowana: Open
Christine: Oleander aergie

 

[kibou]

Solomon walked with a leisurely but steady pace through the halls of the castle, finding his way easily enough. Socializing with all the nobles was not something he was particularly looking forwards to, and thus he had taken his time and put off getting ready in favor of tending to his plants right up until the sky began to turn pink. However, he was unable to refuse the invitation specifically because it had been given to him despite not being one of the nobles, and he was never one to be late to events.

Soon enough he turned a corner, and a pair of colorfully decorated doors came into view at the end of the corridor. Solomon took a glance down at his clothing as he approached, making sure it was still just as perfectly so as when he'd left his bedchambers. The effect looks had on impressions was important, as well as making sure he did not bring disrespect to the King and Queen who'd had the new clothes made for him when he'd first arrived at Hoellan. Not fond of anything extravagant that would stick out too much his boots, trousers, the ribbon tying his hair, and sling were all black, and his long-sleeved shirt the color of a dark wine. Shockingly, in the time it took to arrive, nothing about them had changed.

King Berwin and the Queen gave their welcoming speech shortly after, and when it was over he made his way over to one of the snack tables to see what they had to offer, grabbing a plate. Various breads, cakes, wines, berries, chocolates, and more were lined up in a lovely display, everything looking more or less the same level of appealing. He picked out a few small things on a whim, putting the plate on the table in order to grab the delicacies and set them down on it before picking the plate back up and bringing it all to one of the few seating tables that was still empty. His gaze flitted across the various faces, lavishments, and entertainment, taking a general stock of the going-ons, content to be an observer for now.
Interactions: open

 

[aergie]

Oleander was certain that her hands had never been this sweaty. Standing outside Queen Madeline’s room, she quickly looked back and forth down the corridor before wiping her hands quickly on her soft blue cambric dress. Christine was present, but Ollie wasn’t one to keep up proper appearances when alone with her fellow ladies, or even with her queen. Besides, if anyone else happened to catch her, they could just as well assume she was smoothing out wrinkles and not tarnishing her nice new gown with clammy hands.

Years of etiquette training and sitting in on official meetings could only do so much to prepare a girl for the overwhelming feeling of being in a foreign land and needing adhere to their customs. Ollie wasn’t a shy person, but it was intimidating to see so many unfamiliar faces. She couldn’t already be homesick, could she? Not with Madeline, Rowana, and Christine with her. Oleander blinked rapidly, realizing that the other girls were already heading towards the banquet, and hurried along after them.
===
Once in the banquet hall, Oleander made sure to follow more closely behind the girls, not wanting to accidentally separate herself from the only people she knew in the room. Her hand reached out briefly, nearly giving into the temptation to grab onto the back of one of the other girls’ dresses, before subtly (she hoped) bringing it back to her side. Once they stopped in front of a table of food, Ollie finally allowed herself to look around the room, eyes wide, hoping her anxiety wasn’t written too plainly on her face.

Everyone here is likely just as nervous as you are, Oleander told herself, zeroing in on a young pair of dancing girls. She jumped a bit when Christine’s arm wrapped around her own, head snapping back to meet the other girls eyes, before nodding quickly and letting herself be led towards a table of drinks. Ollie leaned in to whisper in Christine’s ear, “Just a little something to calm my nerves,” she pulled back with a small smile before focusing her attention on the refreshments.

She locked eyes with a young servant waiting on the other side of the table, offering another smile before gesturing towards a large crystal bowl filled with a deep red liquid. The servant selected a bronze goblet and carefully used an intricately engraved ladle to fill her drink. Ollie took a small sip before smiling at the servant again, and turning back to Christine, taking a larger swig of the drink. It was sickly sweet, but burned her throat on the way down. She coughed quietly, dabbing at her lips with a small cloth napkin that she’d freed from a stack on the table, her head already starting to feel warm with the buzz of alcohol.

“It’s good,” she said hoarsely, raising her eyebrows at Christine. She took another long drink; this wasn’t a drink to savour. One more sip and the goblet was empty. Oleander took a closer look at the goblet, noting that it held less fluid than the average drinking vessel she’d find back home in Setlain, and wondered why that might be. She turned just in time to clumsily place her empty goblet onto the tray of a passing servant. She wasn’t the only person indulging in the drink--the tray was nearly full and her eyes followed the servant as he began to dodge guests until he was out of sight, presumably heading to the kitchen to drop off the used dishes.

Ollie turned back towards the nearby servant, this time gesturing towards a silver bowl filled with a pale yellow liquid. The servant hesitated, furrowing her brow, but filled another goblet and passed it over the table. Oleander took the drink with a small “thank you,” lifting the cold metal to her cheek, trying to sooth the heat quickly rushing to her face.

“That first drink was stronger than I thought,” she mumbled, then took a sip of her new drink, leaning against the table, one hand tightly gripping the tablecloth. The other hand still held her second drink, and she raised the goblet to be level with her eyes to examine the intricate design. She straightened up, and angled it towards Christine, pointing out a motif of running horses. Pursing her lips in concentration, Ollie used her index finger to trace where a horn would be on the forehead of one of the beasts, thinking of their country’s animal symbol. Perhaps she’d soon be able to see Freland as a sort of second home, but for now, she was still missing Setlain.

Spoiler: dress & hair

(hair pic for style, not colour)

Interactions: Christine ( Wert )

 

[FoldedPages]

The expedition to Hoellan Castle had been a long and arduous one for Lady Camille and her family. Being fond of the ocean, the voyage from Astrya to the mainland was most gratifying for the young maiden. Her days on their vessel was spent mostly on deck with the crew, dark walnut eyes flashing with vigor for the various mechanics of the ship. Nearly all the aristocrats back home never could quite understand her interest in the things that were beneath her. Well, the things that were supposed to be beneath her anyways. When Camille was finished immersing herself with the culture and company of the ship, she was often found alone on deck brushing up on her studies. Mother and father made certain to remind Camille of her duties before they ventured off. With a tome in hand, she relished in the warmth of the sun. The slight breeze tickled her face and tasted of salt lingered on her lips.

Once on land, the rest of the journey to Freland was less than enjoyable. How ironic Camille felt free on a watercraft in the middle of a vast ocean but caged like a bird in their carriage set for Hoellan. She did, however, fancy traveling through her mother’s homeland of Summerage. The rich history of her bloodlines and where she came from served to be of importance to the lady. Still, even through Summerage, a listless expression soured Camille’s natural beauty. After long days and nights, the Giroux family had finally arrived.

“Be sure not to embarrass us with your tongue, Camille.”

The threat lingered in her mind the night Hoellan Castle celebrated the arrival of various royal descendants. So, as Camille racked a brush through her deep brunette strands, she decided she would brave the gathering on her best behavior; behavior that Camille could only guess would stun her brothers. She donned on a traditional Astryan dress that was made of loose, silver fabric as an homage to her home. Once fully ready, Camille descended to the dining hall.

The corridors were adorned with lavish decorations in varying red and golden hues. It was a sight like any other to Camille as she absolutely adored different architecture and designs. Being reared in Astrya with such diverse culture amongst the people, Camille soon learned to appreciate the differences between each country. She marveled at the décor and held back her desire to find out just how fast Hoellan castle was. Deep down, Camille knew it would be best not to neglect her duties as the Lady of Astrya, so she approached the massive wooden doors that lead into the dining hall. She gave a respected greeting to the guards as they opened the entrance for her. Various smells and sounds permeated her senses as she entered the room, soaking up the sights before her. There was merriment all around with just a tinge of awkwardness from the nobles unfamiliar with each other.

Camille beelined for the wine and was impressed with Freland’s offerings. She chose a delicately sweet wine that had been made in her mother’s homeland of Summerage. Bringing the glass to her lips, Camille took a sip and glimpsed from person to person, making sure to stay out of the way so others would be able to enjoy the snacks. Before immersing herself in conversation, she preferred to observe people. Which would be a complete and utter lie. The real reason she remained quite was the less she spoke the less likely she was to utter something that would be of offense to others.

After a few fleeting minutes of observation, the aroma of food and sips of wine did little to quell her hunger. Eventually, she caved and placed her wine down to mix a plate with loaves of bread and fruit native to Freland. Once satisfied, she claimed her wine and made way to a table to properly enjoy her food.

Interactions: Open

 

[jones573]

Despite his earlier complaining at the prospect of clothes fittings, Emerson wore his finery as comfortably as if he had been born in it. His top was expertly tailored, in a dark cream with golden embroidery and fastenings. His formal clothes never included crimsons or scarlets unless as an accent- Red clothing would clash with his dark orange hair, obviously. (And the other thing, too, though it had never been explicitly stated- to him, at least- that he was forbidden from wearing the country’s colors.)



The little bit of his hair that could be gathered back was tied with a thin cream ribbon, and the pieces that would have fallen forward were pinned to keep them out of his face, though he suspected that might not last as long as his attendant had been hoping. He blamed his dance partner. For a seven year old, the little lady Evalyn had a remarkable memory- She’d insisted that the last time they had both been at a function with dancing, he’d promised her he would dance with her ‘next time,’ on the compromise that she do as her nurse was asking and leave the party to go to bed. He’d promised, she’d said, and he really didn’t take much cajoling.



It was easy to feel sorry for the little girl- She was too young to join her sister as one of the young princess’s primary playmates, and she spent a lot of time being left out. Emerson might have felt even sorrier for her and promised her a second dance, if she had not clung to him quite so tightly, pulling at his hair and wrapping her skinny ankles around the bruises on his side. Not her fault, of course, but all the same Emerson had been glad to return the giggling child to her watchfully wary mother, and bid farewell.



He kept an eye out for his brother as he moved about the room- He’d seen Gwilym up by the King and Queen during the earlier address, but had lost him since then. He hadn’t been able to track down the Freland prince earlier in the day- probably had his day taken over by his parents and servants in alteration, same as Emerson had- but it had been several months since they’d seen each other, and Emerson presumed many things had happened in the interim that Gwilym needed to be teased about.



“Josie! Have you seen Prince Gwilym,” he asked, spotting a maid he recognized. She was responsible for the cleaning duties in his wing of the castle, but had been pressed into helping with the banquet. “Also, one for me please,” he said, gesturing at the wine she was pouring that other servants were whisking off to who knows where.



“I imagine if you tracked down the King and Queen, you could find him, sir,” Josie suggested lightly, smirking at the grimace he made in response. “There are a lot of important people here, I’m sure he has better things to do than put up with the likes of you,” she reminded him, and Emerson rolled his eyes and took a sip from the glass she poured for him from a new pitcher.



He grimaced again, though in more seriousness than his previous jest. “This is more water than wine, Josie, no wonder they don’t usually let you near the dining staff-”



“Oh, hush, I’m doing you a favor,” she told him cheekily. “And it’s red, so be careful you don’t spill on that nice cream shirt. Sir,” she added with mock politeness, before her attention was taken by another servant needing her help with something.



Well, fine. He would drink his watered wine and not make a scene about it. He was on his ‘best behavior’ or whatever he had agreed to earlier. It had been a little rude to point out the difference between himself and Gwilym, though, and it really only strengthened his resolve to find his brother. He began making his way back the way he had come, his hazel eyes searching the crowd for the prince- Wait a minute. That wasn’t- No, it was. The Lady Camille of Astrya, alone at a table with her food and her apparent interest in the room’s design. How… Fortuitous.



Gwilym would forgive him, probably.



“When I was younger, I used to think it was very lucky the woodcarver was not afraid of heights,” Emerson said as he approached, pointing up towards the ceiling with his free hand, where hand carved designs along the ceiling beams could be seen in the relief of the candlelight. He’d imagined the poor master carver trapped up in the rafters for weeks at a time, held up by ropes as he chiseled away. “Turns out, the fellow carved them in his workshop as long panels, which were later attached to the existing support structures by the other workers. A bit more sensible, I suppose,” he said with a chuckle, his easy grin revealing the twisted cuspid on his left side that had occasionally been compared to a fang.



“Freland is honored by your presence, Lady Camille,” Emerson told her, taking her hand to bow over it and kiss the air above her fingers. “Allow me to introduce myself- I am Emerson.”



Many in Freland included ‘lord’ before his name, but he tended to leave it out when introducing himself to nobles, especially those who so clearly outranked them. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of slighting him by intentionally referring to him by only his given first name.



“I have had the pleasure of visiting Astrya on a few occasions- Your people all speak quite fondly of you, though I certainly hope you already knew that.”

Interacting: FoldedPages

 

[Wert]

Christine
Christine's lips curved into a happy smile when Oleander agreed to drink with her. She took to the red wine like her friend at first, watching Ollie downing it before she took some in. Her brows rose in surprise as she swallowed and glanced at the now empty cup. It was strong, stronger than Setlain was used to anyways. The burning tingle in her throat still lingered and made Christine question whether it was really wine. Gray eyes shifted to her friend and she watched as Oleander took another drink in hand, a soft giggle escaping the quite girl's lips upon seeing this. It was unusual to see Oleander this enthusiastic about drinking, but Christine wasn't going to miss a chance at seeing her drunk. Instead, she asked the servant to fill her goblet with more red wine and watched her fellow lady. Oleander pointed out the engraved horses on the bronze goblet and Christine eyed her curiously, soon seeing what it was she was trying to do. A hint of sadness bit at Christine's heart, her attention dancing over the candle lit room for a moment while she spoke, "Setlain will be okay...we'll be back before we know it." There was a genuine tone to her voice, and she gave a reassuring smile before she drank from the goblet in her own hand. In reality, Christine had been saying that mostly for herself, even though something told her it wasn't entirely true. The dark haired girl's eyes settled on the people dancing to the fast paced tune, her brows furrowing as she tried to pinpoint what country the music came from.

Interactions: Oleander aergie

 

[Wert]

Perceus
Observant eyes settled on the dancing nobles, taking in the faces around him in an attempt to remember them later. Perceus's line of sight was interrupted by a noblewoman with ebony hair and flushed cheeks. She asked him to dance at which the man politely declined, giving her a gentle kiss on the hand. She left him with a drunken giggle, face redder than it was before as she moved on to the next man to ask. Despite being given the opportunity, Percy was in no mood to dance. Especially not with a woman so deep in her beverage. Instead, he moved from his position near the thrones and slunk behind the crowd of drinking nobles. The room was kept alive with candlelight and music. Perceus thought it would make a good atmosphere if it wasn't wasted on spoiled children. After all, most of them were just here to take from Freland. His thoughts stopped once he noticed another familiar figure nearby as he peered into the flock noblemen. Clothed in a crimson and black gown, light blonde hair pulled up from her neck, a man leaving her presence with zeal. Yes, he knew exactly who she was. Percy approached her, coming up beside her with his hands held at his back.

"You almost look like you belong here, Eliza," He said, his voice just as gentle always. The madame flinched from fright at his sudden presence, but quickly composed herself when she recognized him.

"I was once one of them, as you know," Elizabeth, now gazing at the others in the room, spoke slowly with a tinge of disdain, "look at them. Drowning themselves in wine, acting like they don't have a care in the world, or simply ignoring it. I've seen half of these older men come to my shops wasting their coin."

Percy held a half smile on his face, almost a smirk, "you do have many beautiful commodities, Madame."

"If only they'd all buy the dresses, too," she grinned, stifling a laugh behind her lips. Although this friendly banter was amusing, the distracted madame quickly reminded herself that it came with a price. She'd known him for a while now and every time has been the same since he first approached her with an offer. Never truly knowing his intentions, and never asking, is what kept her even richer with coin. Elizabeth gracefully shifted on her feet towards the back of the room, and Percy followed after willingly. He pressed his back against the wall as they spoke while she turned to face him at his side. "Tell me, Petrel, what do you want this time?" Her fingers toyed with the metal eagle brooch pinned to his sleeved, golden surcoat. The two looked as if they were flirting as they spoke to one another in hushed tones, voices drowning in the sound of mingling and music. They quickly became whispers exchanged between the two before the Madame made her leave. As elegantly as she came to the wall, she left, and Perceus gently sighed as if he had been defeated. He lingered there for a moment before going to grab a plate from the food tables. There wasn't much he wanted despite how hungry he was. Instead, he placed a few fruits on this dish with a slice of bread and cheese, and moved out of the way for others.

Scanning over the room, it wasn't too difficult to guess who their guests were from the few he could see at the time. Four young women dressed in gowns similar to Eflon, they were obviously the Setlaindish queen and her ladies. The other was clothed in an Astryan dress, the princess, but Percy couldn't quite tell if the Princes were around her due to the crowd. Although, he did see Emerson approach her. If anything, Percy has always respected the young man's attitude, but wasn't, and isn't, eager on interacting with him much. This was never because of the boy's circumstances, he simply isn't close with the royal children.

Percy quickly turned his attention elsewhere, searching the crowd for the king and queen momentarily. He failed at finding them, but his hazel eyes did settle on another familiar face. Solomon, the lonesome seer sat, alone, at one of the seating tables. Long fingers twiddled at his side in thought just before he took towards the table, finally resting in a seat at the same table. He started eating, using both of his hands to pluck grapes from their stems and plop them into his mouth. After eating a few and swallowing them he spoke up in an amused tone, "These are quite good, they must be from Summerage. Doesn't yet compare to some fruits." It was a statement, one Percy knew the seer could easily ignore, or take the bait for conversation. He continued to eat them, although somewhat slower than he was before.

Interactions:
Madame Elizabeth (npc, Previous),
Solomon kibou

 

[FoldedPages]

Right in the middle of sipping wine from her goblet, the voice of a man resonated in Camille's ears and commanded her attention. Ah, it was who she dubbed "the-man-dancing-with-the-child" from her observations. With the man's hand as a guide, she glanced towards the ceiling. How had she failed to notice the little detail in the ceiling on her own? After a short interval of admiration, Camille set her eyes on the stranger and reveled in his short but engaging narrative. "Sensible, yes, but that way takes the fun out of it, doesn't it?" The woman stood in respect and allowed the man to bow and take her hand.

So, this was Emerson. Of course, Camille was well aware of the affair between Freland's own King and the Duchess Crystina. It was her duty as a Lady to know of the happenings between the countries. The woman wondered if Emerson was a son from love or just the product of an affair. Camille's parents were the lucky ones; they wed and bore children through love. Would it be rude to ask the specifics?

“Be sure not to embarrass us with your tongue, Camille.”

Camille kept her thoughts to herself and once her hand was freed and the man stood upright, she responded with a polite curtsey and genuine smile. "Lord Emerson, it is a pleasure." Although the subject of a bastard was a slippery slope, it felt wrong for Camille to address Emerson without an honorific. His words struck pride in her which manifested through her delighted expression. Astrya was a well off country; her people lived comfortably and the royal family had little to worry about with them. That is why she could easily walk amongst the commoners. "Well, I always say there would be no kingdom without its people."

Truth be told, Camille sought in her people what she lacked behind the walls of their castle. That, of course, was a boring detail she could leave out. She grabbed her goblet from the table and, with a nod of her head, she gestured towards the little girl he had been dancing with earlier. She was still giggly and full of merriment. "From what I saw," She began, taking a sip. "It seems as though you are well liked also." To her, Emerson's actions were respectable. Not many would take the time to interact with those below them and yet he did.



Interactions: jones573

 

[sprouhtt]

Location: Palace Kitchen --> Hallway --> Bedroom of one of the royals --> Now banquet event
Interactioning w/: N/A
Mentioned: N/A

Alena was the definition of 'boring', at least that is what the other servant girls said around here behind her back. But then they'd feel bad for saying such a thing since they know it wasn't her fault that she was like this. At first, they thought that she was not used to their customs and language, which is why she barely interacted with the other servant girls and gossiped with them. It just wasn't her style, she didn't like making fun of others or talking behind their back. Alena was not raised like that, she was raised to be a poised, kind, and sweet girl. Alena began to cut up the chocolate bar so that it could be melted in the large bowl over the boiling water. They were going to pour the melted chocolate when done, on top of the cake that was baking in the oven. "You know Alena, you ought to find a man." A woman by the name of Mary said to her.

"A man you say?" Alena questioned and shook her head.

Mary shook her head at Alena, "Yes, you do know what they are right? The opposite sex as us --" Mary was cut off when Alena cleared her throat.

"I do not need one, besides, I am perfectly happy. What more could I ask for," Alena told Mary, "I am glad that I am working and sleeping in this palace, getting enough food to keep me alive, I do not want to push it by asking for a man." Alena added as she walked over with the broken up pieces of chocolate that were cupped in her hand.

Mary marched over to Alena and began to whisper, "You know, they are starting to think you are interested in women."

Alena put the chocolate into the bowl and placed it on top of the boiling water where it could begin its melting phase. "Let them think or say what they wish, does not bother me."

"You. Are. Helpless. Women." Mary said in defeat, "I just do not want you collected cobwebs like Griselda is." Griselda was the head servant around her and she is about in her late 30s and has never gotten married, let alone has kids...they think.

Alena patted her hands on her apron and began to untie it, "Men only bring trouble, and we as women fall into their traps and are ridiculed for it, instead of the men being scolded. I am perfectly fine in being alone, it is the best thing that I could do for myself, given my circumstances. Now if you will excuse me, I have other chores to attend too." Mary put her hands on her hips and just looked at Alena, before giving a sigh.

Mary was like Alena's ONLY good friend around here, she was the one that found Alena that day at the beat and decided to take her to the castle. Mary is the only person that Alena speaks freely with and interacts with.

Alena heads out of the kitchen to go and make sure the halls are clean and to tidy up anything else that might not look right since the palace has guests over.

Griselda didn't quite like having Alena work with big and important events such as this one, she mostly had Alena tidying up any last minute things or making sure that the royals bedrooms' were clean and not clothing was to be seen on the floor. If there was a regular dinner, yes, she would help out by serving, but the last time and first time Alena had dropped a glass filled with wine on a noble, and ever since then Griselda was afraid that she would mess up again. The royal families were lowkey messy and Alena disliked cleaning up after them, which is why she often times looked at Griselda with pleading eyes to allow her to stay in the kitchen or serve the others outside.

Alena made her way upstairs to take a look at the bedrooms and make sure they are looking tidy and clean, the first room she went into was beautifully decorated, but there were no dresses on the floor. That was because they were all on the bed, piled up. Alena let out a frustrated sigh as she began to get to work and placed the dresses on hangers in the closet. One by one, she was almost done, when she saw the last dress that was beneath the whole pile. Alena held it up, to take in all of its glory, she smiled. It was so beautiful, how could anyone not want to wear this dress. It was a gorgeous bright red color, with little red jewels to make it pop and stand out from the crowd.

Alena looked around and made sure nobody was coming, she quickly got undressed and slipped the red dress on. Alena would have never done this in a million years, but the little girl in her just told her to imagine, just for a moment what it would feel like to wear something that is possibly more expensive then she is.

Everyone was at the banquet, nobody would walk in right? Alena thought to herself as she got herself zipped up into the dress that fit her perfectly, she twirled around in it and looked at herself in the mirror. Alena was about to cry, she really forgot how beautiful she used to feel getting dressed up when she was younger. But when the door opened, she felt all the color in her face drop. When she turned to look to see who it was, it was another servant girl, Alena had never seen her face around her, so she must be new.

Alea was about to say something when the girl had a shocked look on her face, the blond girl quickly grabbed Alena by the hand and began to drag her out of the room. Alena was about to get caught, her heart rate was through the roof. Great, and I thought men were going to get me in trouble. Look at what you just did to yourself. She thought again before she saw that she was being led towards the banquet room. "Wait, where are we going?" Alena asked finally.

"My lady, you are late for the banquet. You got lost didn't you, it is quite alright. I have guided you to it, have fun. You look amazing in that dress as if it was built for you." The servant with the blond hair said before she basically pushed Alena into the banquet event. That is because it was not built for me...

Alena was about to faint right where she was standing, the door did close a bit loudly behind her, so before anyone could look in that direction, she quickly turned her face and began to walk away from the door. If only Griselda could see me now, she would kill me in plain sight, god I am going to get kicked out of this palace or worse. How could you be so ignorant.

 

[jones573]

“Well, it wasn’t the silliest idea I’ve ever had,” Emerson admitted with a laugh. “There are access doors up there, so someone can climb out on the rafters to clean or patch the ceiling or if there’s any troubles with the pulleys for the candelabras,” he explained, nodding at the suspended rings of lit candles that hung from above.



“I could take you up there, sometime, if you like,” he offered, not quite so forward enough to be offensive but more forward than was probably proper for having just met a young woman who was essentially a princess. “Assuming you are not afraid of heights,” he added with a grin.



He nodded at Camille's sentiment as though it was universally believed, though he supposed she was lucky to be expressing this to him, and not someone else- Who might believe that people would be nothing without their kingdom.



“Such wise philosophy is surely wasted on me,” he said instead, taking a drink from his own wine. “I am known to be a terrible student of the discipline.”



Emerson chuckled at her observation. “What you are seeing is but a small bit of a much larger truth,” he told her.



There was also the bit where Evalyn had told him, ‘I asked Papa when you would be coming back, and he said you a vulgar man and we would be lucky if not did not come back at all!,’ and the bit where Evalyn’s mother had glared holes through his skull while he had carried her daughter about the dance floor.



“For instance,” Emerson confided lightly, “You did not see the bit when I first promised her that dance- I recall having bruises on my shins for days!”



Picking up little girls who were throwing tantrums and trying to deliver them to their nurse was a delicate practice, and one Emerson had sworn he would not presume to understand a second time.



“The Princess Guinevere was far less violent at that age,” he continued. “So I was quite unprepared!”



Interacting: FoldedPages

 

[kibou]

As he watched the guests dance and converse Solomon picked up a small sort of pastry full of blueberries from the plate, and took a bite. It was fluffy and sweet, but not too much, with a light flavor that complimented the berries well. Nothing less was to be expected from some of Freland’s best bakers. He continued to snack, mind wandering. The lady flirting with one of Freland’s visiting earls by the cakes, hadn’t Merrick said once that he heard from a servant that heard Emerson tell someone she had shaved her eyebrows when it was a fad, and when they never grew back started using mouse fur to replace them? That was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Would she have human-raised mice for that, caged, and collect the fur as it fell? And getting it to stick to your face would be such a hassle. Even in Freland no one would do that to make themselves look better. If he went to go collect a cake, it would be too obvious that he was looking at her. He could go up and introduce himself, but if she got the wrong idea it would be a hassle…

Another approached his table, and Solomon pulled his attention away from his musings to see the royal advisor pull out a chair. They’d only spoke a few times before, and all times had been brief, but most of the tables were full after all, so it was no surprise that someone had come to sit with him. With pastry in hand and mouth, he was unable to greet Perceus, and they sat eating in silence for a time, before the other man spoke up to comment on the grapes.

“They must impress upon the nobles after all. I’ll have to try some later, then.” Another moment of silence passed. “So, how’s your work going? Must be getting busier now that everyone has arrived.”

 

[NextGenRolePlayer]

Tenebris Giroux​

Calm and collected as he should be, Tenebris prepared himself for what’s to come. Ever since his parents announced their invitation to the Hoellan Castle, the boy couldn’t hold his excitement to learning about a foreign kingdom’s culture and their nobles. Considering that he research nearly everything about his homeland, Astrya, it was refreshing to learn something new. During their venture to the land, Tenebris kept his emotions to himself. He had focused on writing on his little book rather than conversing with his own family. He was patient throughout the trip and calmly let the time past by.

The number one topic he desired to research was the Freland’s nobility. Specifically, the King and Queen. It was an obvious subject that would lead to a lot of research like the history of the kingdom and such. Any type of information would be a necessity for what he has in mind. From simple rumors and dramatic history. Information is Tenebris’ power and how he used it. For this party, he wanted to focus on gathering gossip and meet the Freland royals. To be honest, he had no idea who these royals looked like, just descriptions of them at best. He tidied himself more than he should, making sure his clothing is cleaner than any other noble. Tenebris wanted his appearance to be brighter and notable than his older siblings.

“Tenebris, be sure to make some friends.”

Those words embarrassed the young prodigy to the point where he resembled a tomato. Friends weren’t something he wanted to have, they were a nuisance in his eyes. The boy shook his head and focused on the present. He took a second look at his attire and took a deep breath. He was ready and walked down to the hall.

He heard many voices erupting from the hall. Tenebris made sure to keep his friendly, approachable expression on him for the celebration. Inside the room were fancy decorations and unfamiliar people, not much to take note of. Tenebris saw his sister across the room talking to a young man, looking as young as him. Besides that, he immediately looked around the banquet, scanning for any notable figures within his vicinity. A woman in glimmering red matched what he was looking for; her attire represented the kingdom's colors. However, her expression seemed to be anxious to be celebrating. He decided to at least cheer her up.

Patiently, Tenebris walked over to the woman with a joyful expression. "Hello, madame. I assume you are part of the Freland nobility." The young prodigy politely introduced with a kind tone. "I am Prince Tenebris of Astrya and proud to be of your acquaintance." He gradually gave his hand out for a simple handshake.


Interacting: sprouhtt

 

[FoldedPages]

Camille's dark irises fluttered from Emerson to the grand candle holders above and then back to the young redhead once again. For someone who took such interest in these affairs, she realized just how little her knowledge of how they worked really is. His next proposal came as an astonishing suggestion to the young maiden and her face did little to hide the fact. Her eyebrows raised a notch and her hand splayed out like a fan on top of her heart in feigned disturbance. "Asking a lady to accompany you up in the ceiling? Quite bold, don't you think?"

After proposing the question to Emerson, Camille tilted her head ever so slightly and the right side of her lip curled into a mischevious smile. "Heights don't frighten me, though. Unless, of course, you're the one who is scared of them." Camille could already hear the haunting voice of her parents or sibling reprimanding her for the small adventure if Emerson stays true to his word. Most of the ladies in similar standings to Camille's would probably be offended by Emerson's words. However, it was refreshing to banter with someone who refused to watch their tongue simply because of her position. At times, the court could get quite boring and tedious; this was a welcoming change.

"First you invite a lady up to the ceiling and now you are spreading lies about an innocent child being violent? When will it stop?" In order to hide her grin, Camille placed her goblet to her lips and let the refreshing taste of the fruity liquid slide down her throat. Ah, yes, Princess Guinevere. The King and Queen's only daughter. Camille had yet to see the young princess in attendance. The way Emerson spoke of his younger half-sibling tinged Camille with a bit of envy. Even as half-siblings with an unusual circumstance, Emerson and Guinevere seemed to have a strong bond. "Are you and the princess close?" Camille wanted to be sure of her accusation, of course.

The booming resonation of the closing doors piqued Camille's attention. Her posture shifted slightly and when she looked at the entrance of the celebration, nothing out of the ordinary caught her eyes. It was when she shifted back to face Emerson that something of interest commanded her attention; a vermillion dress. Specifically, her vermillion dress. Her delicate brows narrowed, wrinkling the skin in between them. Camille was sure to let her maid know to pack a variety of gold and red dresses for her trip to the court. As a woman of strategy, she knew donning Freland's colors on certain occasions would be perceived as a sign of respect. But now, a young woman Camille did not recognize was wearing one of those dresses.

She watched the woman in the red dress hastily make her way into the crowd. To make the situation even more interesting, her younger brother, Tenebris, approached the woman. It was the first time all evening she spotted her own kin. Although Camille did not expect her brother to recognize his sister's dress, she wondered if he would be able to identify the native Astryan fabric and design. "I think that woman is wearing my dress," she told Emerson. Her tone was laced with a hint of amusement at the statement.

Interactions: jones573
Mentions: NextGenRolePlayer sprouhtt

 

[sprouhtt]

Location: banquet event
Interactioning w/: NextGenRolePlayer
Mentioned: FoldedPages

Alena's heart was racing out of her chest, she didn't know what exactly to do, the doors had already closed and opening them again would cause everyone to break their necks. Alena knew that the dress she was wearing was a bright color red and it could not go unnoticed, she wondered to whom this dress belonged too. Alena was curious, but she also hoped she didn't run into anyone of importance or the owner of this dress. Alena knew that if she were to be caught, she would be punished for wearing someone of high status's clothes and they would possibly say that she is stealing it.

Even if she were to defend herself by just saying she wanted to try it on, they would not believe her and turn against her. Now all the servants in the kitchen will be talking about this tonight, on how she wore a dress that wasn't even for her or they will say she is the snooping type.

Alena saw that she was getting some looks from people; men were watching her with lustful eyes, while women around her envied her for the dress she was wearing. Alena quickly moved away farther from the door and towards a corner, where a man approached her and began to speak. Alena reminded herself that she had to tune in to what he was saying to her.

He is asking whether you're a part of the Freland Nobility...good god what should I say? She asked herself as she waited for him to introduce himself, giving her time to think of an answer.

Wait, did he say Prince? Prince of Astrya? I am going to die. Alena thought again to herself. What did she get herself into?

She was already in this sticky situation, "Hello your highness..." Alena said as she bowed to him. He looked rather young, but for someone as young as him, he had great taste in style, very very expensive taste.

"I prefer to not trouble you with my name, I am nobody of importance. I am here to accompany a friend who has abandoned me to join his friends for a drink." Alena said with a light chuckle to him as she made up the last part.

While she was speaking with him, she looked in one direction for a quick second to confirm her gut feeling that she was being stared at by a woman. Was she the one who owned this dress? If so, I am in trouble. Alena thought. The other girls only looked, but this women, who somewhat resembled the young lad in front of her might be the owner of this dress.

Great, if he is a prince, she is a princess...and one of the guests as well, I am really going to lose my job and possibly head.

 

[Wert]

Perceus
Percy slightly smiled when Solomon spoke, his lips pursing into a thin line. The adviser was glad to know conversation could still be made with Solomon, however mild or short-lived it may be. He nodded lightly in agreement at the first statement, swallowing a bit of dry bread before he responded to the second. "My work was made busier before our esteemed guests arrived, but Griselda took over the preparations for their chambers and such," his brows raised, the same vaguely amused tone to his voice was kept despite how much stress it had actually put him under. Someone had to invite them and prepare everything, after all, and Percy wasn't one to usually deny work. "It is going well so far, but I have a feeling things may become complicated in the coming months," A feeling was downplaying the statement, knowing himself that the arrival of their guests has not only threatened Freland, but also put many of the townsfolk near a state of unrest. Perceus let the thought roll to the back of his mind, not wanting to get to excited about the prospect of being close to Eflon again. He had to stop himself from turning his full attention to the door when the sound of it closing echoed above the noisy crowd, taking the chance to assume it was simply a noble arriving late. His gaze flickered from the entrance to Solomon after a moment of silence,"Excuse my manners, how has your work been? I hear spring hasn't been kind to some this year."

Interactions: Solomon kibou

 

[jones573]

Emerson affected a look of mock surprise, as though he was entirely appalled that Camille might think him to have anything less than the most pure and noble of intentions.



"Your highness, I assure you- I meant no offense, truly. If I was wishing to be bold with you," he said with a sharp grin, fairly certain he had ascertained her sense of humor correctly and she was not actually offended. "The rafters would not be where I invited you! Especially," he confessed, "As I am a tad squeamish about heights. I try not to let such things stop me, though."

There were some young women who he knew he was not to be too bold with – princesses of Astrya among them- and that was a real fear, and not one he was willing to try to overcome.





"But it is wise of you, to be cautious of how your actions may be perceived," he noted. "I have never given much time to such thoughts, and I have- on occasion- gotten myself into trouble for it," he admitted with a chuckle. "I'm sure we could obtain a suitable escort if it does interest you, or if there is any other part of Hoellen you wish to see- Prince Gwilym grew up here as well, and is far more gentlemanly than myself, I am told.”



Emerson believed himself to be far more familiar with the secrets of the place than his brother, but that was besides the point.



“Close enough that I would forgive her if she did happen to bruise my shins,” Emerson answered regarding his relationship with his half sister, in a roundabout way that did not really answer the question at all.



He followed Camille’s gaze to the woman in the red dress, narrowing his eyes a bit to try and see her face, though she had since turned away from his best view. She almost looked like- That was silly, of course. Alena might be favorably be described as ‘boring’, Emerson couldn’t imagine why should would steal a princess’s gown and crash the welcoming party. He had been keeping an eye out for her, in hopes to get her to provide him some painkillers as he’d heard she did for her friend, so he was probably just seeing her features on the unfamiliar woman because it was a convenient solution for his brain.



“How odd,” Emerson mused. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her- She could probably recognize her own wardrobe, and even if she couldn’t, he wouldn’t call her out on it. “I’m sure you wear it better, if that is a concern,” he offered. “I could go investigate the situation if you like,” he suggested. “It’s hardly polite of me, to let a princess have her clothes stolen in my own home.”



This was an important evening, the opening for the important days and weeks to come, and he presumed an imposter- or perhaps, a spy- was not a welcome addition to the room.


Interacting with: FoldedPages

 

[NextGenRolePlayer]

Tenebris Giroux​

As she talked, Tenebris figured that she was nervous. He couldn’t help but noticed that her words contradicted her appearance. A ruby-like dress on a woman who says she isn’t important. Nonsense. Meanwhile, there were many eyes lingering over the scene. Some jealous eyes from men were glaring at the young prince. I’ll gladly make use of the spotlight while I’m shining under it. The boy smirked to himself. It’s best if I both boost my reputation and, if she’s lying, gain some information.

“It’s a shameful act to abandon a young lady at a splendid party.” Tenebris disappointedly expressed. “I’m not one to determine if someone is important or not. Although, how about I help you relax, Ms. Lady-In-Red?” In a kind gesture, he grabbed her hand and proceeded to move out of the corner towards the center of the room.

As he does this, he catches his sister looking at the mystery woman in amusement. What is so amusing about this, sister? He rolled his eyes. Anyway, I just hope I’m not wasting my time doing this friendly stuff.

Interactions: sprouhtt FoldedPages

 

[Pine]

The quiet chattering of nobles and the sweet, staccato viola plucks pounded in Gwilym's ears.

He had been given the task of helping to welcome the court's guests, though all he really wanted to do was find his brother. His arrival had been expected more than a week prior. This had not happened, and he had to listen instead to his sister make up some nonsense about a run-in with sea monsters. Gwilym had finally gotten wind of Emerson's arrival from this morning's servants when he'd asked. He'd missed having his brother around, but perhaps even more than that, he was getting tired of Guinevere asking that he play with her.

During the welcoming speech he'd tried spotting Emerson in the crowd, but in spite of the fierce red hair of his, his younger brother was all but lost to him. Part of him began to doubt he was even there, though Maxwell's exasperation according to the servant gossip would suggest otherwise.

He was quick to dive into the crowd after the speech in hopes of shaking off his sister for the evening. Now standing in the throng of guests, however, he wished he weren't. Though no doubt the garments he adorned were masterfully tailored and flattering to his figure, the gold accents complimenting the golden blonde of his hair, the vibrant red made him feel like he stuck out. The royal dresser would accept nothing less than Gwilym donning his country's color, and the young prince was forced to oblige.

There were several pairs of eyes flitting onto and off of him at any given time. He smiled sheepishly back at one noble, who'd had his gaze fixed on him for a particularly long time. When that man started approaching him, Gwilym, in a moment of panic, dropped his eyes to the floor and walked the other way.

As he crossed the room to the banquet tables, Gwilym twisted and tugged at the hairs on the back of his head. He stopped abruptly, bringing his arm back to his side with force. Time and again both his mother had chided and his instructors had reprimanded him for such a nervous habit which was "unbecoming for a prince." He let out a shaky sigh, though it did very little to still his nerves.

Looking forward again, his gazed passed wistfully over the wine glasses. He'd resolved to stay sober for this event, or at least for as long as he could stand. A drink may loosen him up, but Gwilym hadn't quite mastered knowing where to put his limits, or at least that was what several of his attendees had insisted earlier throughout the day.

By the cakes, he spotted a pair of noble women, one with a modestly-sized crown on her head. Obviously she was a lady of importance, but the descriptions of each queen and princess expected to attend were crammed into him earlier that day, and now he felt the information getting all jumbled together. The rather plain colors of her otherwise near-promiscuous dress did little to help indicate which country she was from either (not that he could keep the countries' different colors straight in his head anyway).

As much as he wanted to just walk away again, he knew he couldn't avoid everyone at the banquet forever, at least not without disappointing his parents. The pair seemed young enough, he tried reassuring himself, so hopefully they would be easier to talk to.

"Pardon me," he said, offering a smile right after approaching from the side. "I hope I'm not interrupting." He did feel bad for it, but he wasn't sure how else to get their attention. "I'm Prince Gwilym."

He bowed, perhaps a bit stiffly.

"It's an honor to have you both here." Was that too subservient? He wasn't sure. In his mind, he prayed they'd reveal their respective titles without him having to offend them with bad guesses.

"I do hope the food is to your liking, both," he said, rattling off the only standard conversation starter that came to his mind. He hadn't noticed whether the darker-skinned girl'd had any to begin with, and it only just then occurred to him to be concerned she may just not like any of the things at the banquet.

 

[Wert]

Madeline & Rowana

Rowana had just finished gushing about the golden embroidery on one of the red banners behind the table when someone approached the two from the side. "Not at all," Madeline gently shifted on her feet to face the young man with a slight smile, eyeing him carefully as he introduced himself. She gave a partial curtsy and neck bow, and Rowana followed with a full curtsy. " Thank you, Prince Gwilym, It's a pleasure to meet you," Madeline spoke with a soft yet happy tone, "I should have known you are the prince, you favor the Queen greatly. Although, you do look a little like the King, as well." Rowana subtly nudged Madeline for her comment, although the Lady was unsure if it would be taken as offensive if not too familiar for a first meeting.

Madeline herself was confused by the action, taking it as a cue to introduce themselves, "- I'm Madeline, Queen of Setlain, and this is my Lady, Rowana," she lifted her free hand to softly touch her friend's arm when she spoke, a familiar smile resting on her face. The young Queen was just about to thank him, and his family, for having them as guests in Hoellan; However, before she opened her mouth to speak again Gwilym had inquired about the food Freland provided for the banquet. Rowana responded first, allowing Madeline to ease some of her excitement about meeting another royal, "It's lovely, the food is quite delicious."

Madeline brows rose slightly as she responded, "I agree, it's a divine selection, I love the lemon honey cakes especially," by the time Gwilym had approached them they had already tried a few things at the table, although Madeline seemed more interested in the sweets than anything else. Perhaps the sugar rushing to her head kept her from filtering her rambles, "How did you get so many lemons? I hear they only grow in Astrya this time of year."

Interactions: Gwilym Pine

 

[FoldedPages]

Though she would never utter the words aloud, Camille and Emerson were much alike. In her younger days, Camille was often reprimanded for sneaking off and subsequently getting 'lost' within the hidden cobblestone passways of the castle she called home. However, as time would pass and more duties and responsibilities fell upon her, Camille abandoned those once childish antics. Well, abandoned as much as she could. Having the luxury of a Kingdom whose people were well taken care of allowed for the young princess to explore their lands freely and without the judgment of her parents and maids who swiftly reminded her of her position back within the castle walls. Perhaps that is why she spent most of her time away from Astrya's castle.

"You are too kind, Lord Emerson. If time allows, I would love to explore Hoellan castle. I am sure both you and your brother are quite busy hosting all us nobles, so I wouldn't want to trouble you with such affairs. I'm sure I can get in trouble on my own in a castle this large," Of course, the woman was merely kidding. Though she enjoyed their banter, Camille knew that her brothers and she were here to discuss important matters concerning their Kingdom, as were most of the others. "Though, I do look forward to meeting Prince Gwilym. I haven't had the chance to do so just yet."

Camille kept her eyes locked onto the woman-in-red and her brother as they ventured deeper into the crowd. "Oh, no. I am sure you are a busy man, Lord Emerson. I wouldn't dare trouble you with that. But, if you'll excuse me, I will let you get going. I'm sure you have more important people to attend to," Her dark irises glanced to the bastard son, a smile of sincerity painted on her lips as she nodded to him. Before departing, she placed her hand gently on Emerson's shoulder for only a moment, a custom in Astrya that often indicated friendship. Emerson had mentioned traveling to Astrya before, so Camille was sure he would be accustom to the friendly gesture. With her wine in tow, Camille strolled through the crowd of drunken nobles and working servants to appearing before Tenebris and the mystery woman, causing them to stop dead in their tracks.

"Tenebris, dear brother," Camille smiled at the youngest Giroux sibling. "I see you listened to mother and father's advice about making friends. I must say, your new friend has impeccable taste in clothing," With those words, she glanced from Tenebris to the woman, her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the right. "I love your dress. I don't think we have had the pleasure of meeting. I'm Camille, Princess of Astrya and you are?" Her words were free of malice as she was genuinely curious about the girl. Now being up close, she was certain this was her dress.

Interactions: jones573 NextGenRolePlayer sprouhtt

 

[sprouhtt]

Location: banquet event
Interactions w/: NextGenRolePlayer & FoldedPages
Mentioned: N/A

Alena listened to him as she watched his body language, he seemed to be smirking, but she didn't understand why. Was he fond of her? He did seem younger than her, but she couldn't be in love with a Prince. He couldn't be fond of her either, it was not how it went in this society. Servants could never dream too big, it was not how they were raised. They were raised to dream low; having a farm some kids and remaining at the bottom of the pyramid, that was if they were allowed to live a life. Alena snapped out of her thoughts and looked around to see herself being gently pulled by the young Prince and headed towards the center of the room. Great, I am about to get exposed anytime now....no, play it cool Alena, you are going to be fine. She lied to herself, but she did so just to calm her nerves. They were still there, but her nerves showed when she began breathing, her chest rose up and down rather quickly as if she had run from here to the outskirts of the kingdom.

The prince seemed very kind, yet he had a very reserved aura. Alena only came close to him during the mornings when she would go into his room to bring breakfast or pulling the curtains apart to show that it was time to get up. She had never had a full blown conversation with someone of such high status like him. Frankly, she didn't know how to respond to this, she felt her body tense up right when a woman stopped them dead in their tracks.

The women were very beautiful, clean, polished and looked proper. Alena titled her head slightly and realized that it was the women who were staring at them from across the room before. Alena's theory became true when the women referred to Prince Tenebris as a brother. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Camille," Alena said as she bowed just a bit to the women and brought herself back up.

"As I have told Prince Tenebris, I am simply not anyone of importance. I have come to accompany someone and they have left me all alone, there is no need to learn of my name Princess Camille; for you will already forget my name after our encounter." Alena said as she lowered her head just a bit.

Alena wanted to leave as quickly as possible, she knew that if she were to let her hair of the bun, maybe nobody would have recognized her. Alena's hair is so long that it reaches down to her ankle, she has never since she was born. Maybe a slight trim to take the dead ends off, but in the culture she grew up in, the women were not allowed to cut their hair unless a numerous of reasons; their husbands died, they were seen as unholy/unpure for doing something that was not acceptable, and when they brought shame to their families.

Alena felt the woman's eyes on her, burning into her skin. Alena knew this was her dress, but the women for some reason only dropped hints of the dress but hasn't exposed her yet. Alena began to look around just a bit to see how she could escape if she decided to run.

Spoiler: Her Hair

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Prince Andrew of Astrya

Andrew had been preparing for the banquet for a while now. While he had no real plans, he did intend to secure some kind of marriage agreement. Who that was, however, remained to be seen. Whoever benefitted his Astrya the most. He had long accepted that he would not marry for love, and that it was his duty to try and be the model King and husband when the time came. He had no intention of cheating on his wife, nor treating her poorly. Not only would that ruin his reputation, he just didn't have time in him to be a common bully. He hated bullies, and if anything, the banquet only reminded him of this. Most nobles were no more than thugs with fancy clothes, and he intended to rise above that.

He patted his siblings on the shoulders once they entered, saying, "Have fun, you two. Remember that you represent Astrya and her people. I'm looking at you, Camille." He chuckled, walking off in his own. He scanned the large room, looking for anyone of note to speak to. He didn't really see anyone, and since his parents weren't there, that meant that he could actually spend time with his siblings, for once. His father was quite adamant that he be separated from Tenebris and Camille, as to not "grow attached" to them, if they ever threaten the kingdom. Despite his deep patriotism, Andrew loved his family, and couldn't resist.

He made his way over to his siblings, still carrying the glasses as he attempted to not spill them. He stepped beside his little brother, saying, "Hello, dear brother! I pray you haven't caused too much troub-" His eyes froze as they spotted possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Andrew was not a man ruled by his passions. But for once in his life, he felt his heart swell in his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach. He scanned her up and down for a few seconds, his face as red as her gown. He swallowed, composing himself as he handed Tenebris a glass instinctively, grabbing the woman's hand as he said, "Mi'Lady, I am Prince Andrew, Crown Prince of Astrya. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." He kissed her hand, his lessons in ettiquete kicking in. He was still blushing, but not like before. He was convinced that she was of royal blood. She was beyond gorgeous. And he intended to marry her, if possible.

sprouhtt
FoldedPages
NextGenRolePlayer​

 

[FoldedPages]

Alena's reply was not one Camille was expecting. In response, the young princess' brows rose just a notch, her lips puckering in and downward in bewilderment. Her lips parted ever-so-slightly to counter the mysterious woman's words, but her eldest brother intervened just before she was able to. Camille watched as her brother's skin flushed with a vermillion tint at the sight of the woman in her dress. His actions prompted Camille to sip from her goblet, her signature move to hide the amused grin illustrated on her lips. Oh? So the nameless woman caught the attention of Andrew. Although much entertainment commenced around the siblings, this scene piqued Camille's interest the most. So the thief may or may not join the Giroux lineage. Interesting.

"Ah, Andrew. Such a charmer as always," Camille spoke to her eldest brother directly and then shifted her body to face the woman. "Maybe you will have more luck getting the name of this beautiful woman. I am disappointed she would think so lowly of me to simply forget her name."

She then took a calculated step closer to the woman, leaning in so her lips were as close to the woman's ear without brushing against her lengthy hair. "I would advise a woman in a stolen dress not to lie to my brother about her name. And please, take the dress as my gift; the color is befitting of you. I do hope we can get to know each other more someday," Her words came out in a hushed, low tone so only the woman would be able to hear them. Camille was not one to cause an unnecessary scene. Of course, she would keep a close eye on the woman to ensure she would not be a threat to her brother or Freland. As she leaned back, she turned to her two brothers, her lips curling upward into a smile. "Well, I should probably mingle more," And with that, she plucked the goblet of wine Andrew carelessly handed Tenebris and made her way carefully through the crowd, winding gracefully between the nobles and servants engaging in merriment and dance.

When she reached the table she was previously enjoying her refreshments at, right before Emerson came to introduce himself, she noticed her plate of varying fruits and cheeses was gone; most likely picked up by a servant for being abandoned. Her shoulders sunk faintly. She was really looking forward to trying that cheese blend. Setting down the extra goblet of wine, Camille once again approached the table of refreshments, made up her plate, and headed back to the banquet tables that offered a variety of meats and sides that made up a more balanced meal. With a plate of fruits and cheese and two goblets of wine, Camille nestled in comfortable, popping a sweet grape into her mouth as she stole a glance towards her two brothers and the woman, hoping things were going well for them. "I really should be interacting with the nobles," she thought, biting into a slice of cheese. "Maybe not. This cheese is splendid."

Interactions: jones573 NextGenRolePlayer Rusty of Shackleford sprouhtt

 

[aergie]

Oleander nodded and smiled back at Christine, accepting her words of comfort at face value. She followed Christine’s gaze across the room, taking a long sip from her drink before gently squeezing the other girls arm and spinning away, stumbling slightly, her desire to stay near Christine forgotten. She savoured the fluttering of soft fabric and air around her legs. Oleander gripped the table in front of her, having brought herself to the servant who had provided her first two drinks. She smiled widely at the younger girl, quickly finishing her second drink before eagerly asking for another.

Third drink in hand, any anxieties forgotten, Oleander quickly made her way towards a table spilling with pastry and fresh fruit. She gently freed a few grapes from their sad looking cluster, popping them into her mouth and biting down, eyes widening at the taste. No wonder the bunch had already been mostly picked clean--these were the best grapes Ollie had ever tasted. She washed the sweet juice down with the bitter taste of liquor, and nibbled at a tart with a bright and tangy filling that she couldn’t identify. Oleander was distantly aware that she was becoming inebriated, and despite her training, still wanted more. Her nervous butterflies were tamed; if her hands were still sweating, she was unaware of it. After emptying her third goblet, Oleander headed back towards the drinks, weaving carelessly through the crowd of strangers.
===
A blurry period of time had passed--minutes? hours? days? Ollie giggled quietly. Probably minutes.

She slowly approached her favourite table in the hall, noting the servants posture straighten as Oleander narrowly avoided bumping into a tall servant carrying two heaping platters of food. She didn’t notice any looks of disapproval aimed her way, instead focusing on lifting the skirt of her dress away from her feet. Surely her stumbles were due to the cut of the dress being too long for her unimpressive height. Finally, she reached her destination, cheeks rosy from the exertion (and the drinks).

Oleander addressed the servant stationed behind the table; in her head, her words came out clearly, but in reality, she slurred them, “Hi, could I please get another drink? Are there any I haven’t yet tasted?”

The younger girls face reddened and she leaned forward to whisper, “My lady, if I may be so bold...do you not already feel as though your thirst has been quenched? ”

At that, Oleanders eyes widened, face splotching pink and white. Struck silent, she nodded before turning and stumbling quickly away. Suddenly feeling quite self-conscious, Ollie decided she should find somewhere to sit, hopefully away from prying eyes. Of course, she wasn’t new to the taste of alcohol, but it seemed she’d overestimated her tolerance to these new foreign liquours.

With swimming vision, she headed towards the first free seat she could find. She noted that the table was empty save for two men, and though Oleander was not the type to approach strange men, sitting down was her top priority. She finally reached the table, selecting a chair as far away from the strangers as possible. As she pulled the chair out to sit, she overextended and knocked the chair onto the floor with a thump, barely louder than the general din of the large room. Ollie jumped back with a start, and began to giggle helplessly before abandoning the upturned chair in favour of one next to the least intimidating stranger. Once seated, she pressed her hot face into the solid wood of the table, still quaking with poorly suppressed laughter interspersed with quiet hiccups. After taking a deep breath, she peered up at the man she’d sat next to. Oleander took in his short, dark hair, attractive face (though much too old for her, she thought), and golden surcoat before her eyes flickered towards the other man, looking over his scarred face with curiosity. She was quickly overcome with the urge to be sick--an urge that was quickly satisfied. Mouth clamped shut, Oleander pulled the nearest plate towards herself before letting the contents of her stomach spill.
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