100th Annual Cendrillion Ball

[theplasticdemon]

Rosalein Katharina Diefenbach​

Poor Rosa. All of this 'politics' business was beginning to wear on her. An attempt to escape her obligations had only led to more. The tension could be cut with a dull knife, even causing Rosalein to feel a bit squeamish. If anything, her brother received all the more respect from her to deal with all of this.... social ugliness in a way that even barely resembled grace. She focused much of her attention to the Euthalian princess despite everyone else at the table vying for her attentions. Luciano's comment at the famous princess' arrival was just within earshot, causing the slightest chuckle to escape.

They were all celebrities in their own ways, weren't they?

However, Rosalein had not expected such a warm welcome from the princess herself. Especially since the Ramerian artist had thought Evalyn was closer to her brother than herself. Especially regarding her as 'Rosa' with such glee. Not 'Rosalein', or even 'Princess Rosalein', not that she had done much to earn herself the latter title. It raised all sorts of panic as to what the Ramerian should address her as.

"It... is nice to finally see you again, Eva," she replied softly, mustering her brightest smile.

'Eva' would have to do, despite the certain 'offness' that her tone possessed.

She let out a tense breath as the topic of not being invited to the ball was addressed. While Rosa had expected this to be an obvious question to ask, she had neither prepared or truly knew the answer herself. "Well enough. I suppose I arrived on a bit of a whim." Rosalein appeared to space out looking for the 'most correct' words to say, deciding with her trademark combination of dry and aloof, topped with a nervous laugh.

Feeling a familiar tap on the shoulder, Rosa's look softened as Klaus turned to greet her. As Evalyn and her brother reconnected, Rosalein looked down and chewed on the inside of her cheek, tensely picking at the food on her plate. At the moment, Rosalein wasn't sure what to feel. While relief in the fact that her brother's presence seemed to cancel out her apparent stiffness, their brief interaction left something to be desired.

All this etiquette stuff was wearing her out. Rosalein shot the Nezzie prince a curious glance as he took the Marine princess' seat, attempting to logically explain something to herself before her attention turned to the princess and her reaction.

While Rosa was not one to abide by rules or tradition when it did not align with her values, that was not to say that she was unfamiliar with what was considered appropriate. If anything, Rosalein had deeply studied the intricacies of proper decorum through both textbooks and tutors. She had assumed that Princess Evalyn had done so, perhaps more intensely. Though, her thoughts were contradicted as she saw simple mistakes and nuances that the Eva she knew would never commit.

She could consider the fact that Eva acted with her nerves; Prince Kiefer did come off as overbearing at best, unsettling at worst. In addition, theory was often overrode by practice, and perhaps this was the best decision to have made in the moment and Rosalein was merely overanalyzing the situation.

Her mind was overwhelmed once more with the appearance of an exotic looking female guest. Introducing herself as the representative of the Marine Queendom, she showed up just in time to complicate the situation all while Rosa continued to stand by as a dumbfounded outsider. The Marine princess definitely caught her attention to say the least. It did not take long for Rosalein to be impressed by this Naomi. The Marine carried herself effortlessly, making her inner scholar wonder what kind of country the Marine Queendom had become.

The stunned Rosalein took yet another sip from her glass of wine, unsure of how to react. The feeling was similar to being presented with a riddle that was simple, yet difficult at the same time; the only solution on the tip of your tongue... Though, the tension appeared to stem from the princess herself.

Wait a minute.

Prince Asuran?

Sneaking a concerned glance at Princess Evalyn, and then towards a seemingly agitated Asuran, Kiefer, and Naomi. It was a sure mistake that even nervousness could not justify. Not to mention... the look the Duke of Dorimun had given her. She was surprised that with a glare that seemed able to kill, he had regained his composure so quickly. Rosalein could brush off the breach of protocol but the negligence in addressing a royal representative by an incorrect title?

That called for another sip.

Finally, out of genuine concern for her longtime friend as well as the lowered inhibitions that resulted from her heavy intake of the wine, she waited until the Dorimian was preoccupied with the Marine to glance sideways. "Prin-- Eva,"Rosalein began to correct herself, remembering the way the princess had addressed her previously. "The representative of Dorimun is a duke and not a prince..." Rosa raised a worried eyebrow towards the Euthalian. Her sentence was not worded to be a question, though her tone made it clear that she wanted to know what exactly was wrong. To others, stating such redundant information might even seem condescending towards the Euthalian princess had Eva not seemed confident in her decision-making.

Another sip.

As an awkward attempt to comfort her (even she wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do), Rosalein nervously held out her hand underneath the table. "I'll be sure to capture your dance with a painting. I-It's been a long time since you've seen my artwork, hasn't it?" The Ramerian princess blurted out, changing the topic with her best attempt at looking delighted.

~~

Addressed: Olissa (Evalyn) Pretzel Heart (Klaus)
Affected/Nearby: The Succubi Queen (Naomi) ParadoxalPaladin (Asuran) hosaki (Tristan and Kalen) Pretzel Heart (Kiefer and Luciano)​

 

[Syrenrei]

Dahlia Lenore Sinclair
Princess of Greedo

[Not open to any further revisions]
​

The wheels in Dahlia's mind churned as the processed the casual referenced to twelve years. The man spoke as if a dozen years was nothing. Perhaps she was mistaken, but his references towards time were almost irreverent. No one, not even Dahlia, found the passage of a decade as wholly inconsequential as Helbrecht's tone implied. It was an enigma and the princess was not academically inclined enough to come up with a reasonable hypothesis as to how he could be so apparently old yet not show signs of advanced age. Truly it was not her place to ask.

The confusion she had was only furthered by his assertion he was not half giant but was 'made' to slay them and dragons so thus he was capable. Were she to meet a dragon she did not expect any single man could defeat it on his own. Despite the impossibility, she found herself believing that Helbrecht would be able if the impossible situation arose. The confidence of his voice, his steady step, his size, and factual manner of speaking was both convincing and persuasive. Now that she had a second to consider she wondered if Helbrecht was as human as she assumed. Arie were not usually as big as he was (then again neither were humans) and she had never heard of one donning knightly armor. What she recalled about arie lore also made her doubt that an arie would live decade upon decade effortlessly. Witches were rare but extremely powerful and, rumor had it, could be long-lived. Dahlia had never met a witch but if they could be female it only made sense they could also be male. Suspicions rose in her breast as she pondered. Armor would conceal discrepancies in his appearance, being able to slay a dragon would not be as fantastical, and magic could assuage the effects of time on a body.

Men and witches alike were born and not created, yet Helbrecht alluded to his existence as being formed rather than birthed. As tempted as she was to inquire about his parents- both to make certain the world had not started spinning backwards with people just existing with no origin and to see if he was a witch as hypothesized- it felt improper even for her. Broaching the sensitive topic of family took more than a flat inquiry. Queen Iris exasperatedly would say that her daughter was 'learning nothing' because of her wandering attentions, but that was far from the case. Dahlia was learning about people. Body language, syntax, tone, and the rhythm of conversation helped her navigate when a topic was safe and when it was a social land mine seconds from detonation. Pushing Helbrecht on the giants, dragons, and blood relations could be benign but there was nothing 'readable' in his mannerisms. Risking an explosion in his temperment was a gamble she would take. Not yet. Especially if he was a witch. That was one small portion of the population she had no exposure to and treating them just like an ordinary human was unwise at best.

And then came a wave of annoyance, of irritation, of sternly contained chastisement. Helbrecht didn't sound like Queen Iris, but when Dahlia was being scolded she internally found everyone to sound like her mother. The Greedan matriarch had only the best intentions, but their conflicts and differences with her daughter were bountiful than the similarities. The royal was composed as Helbrecht spoke. She didn't let frustrations of her own erase her happiness and bright smile- but she was disappointed in herself. Helbrecht had not convinced her the 'Lady' was the excellent judge of character he believed her to be. It was unlikely that Dahlia would ever put someone on a pedestal that high- even her brother she silently admitted had a few very, very, very minor flaws- but she felt guilty for upsetting him. Dahlia wanted to be liked above all else. Fear of others perceiving her poorly kept her awake at night more than the war outside her country's borders did (which was horrific in its own right). Disagree though she may, she knew she had made a large misstep that would not be easily forgotten nor forgiven. Had she kept her mouth closed and only listened perhaps the error could have been avoided entirely.

Dahlia wasn't certain how to approach Helbrecht. Forging a friendship with him would clearly not be easy. He spoke of odd things she did not quite understand, took offense at any criticism of the elusive Lady, sidestepped or rebuffed compliments, and volunteered very little without prompt. She had dealt with stoicism and even emotionally distant people before. Knowing Duke Asuran, Prince Kiefer, and Viscount Luciano would be in attendance at the ball had meant she had sought out 'extra practice' with these difficult personality types in particular. None of them had prepared her for such a bizarre knight whose face she could not see and whose age she couldn't discern. But Dahlia wanted and needed him to like her the moment they had left the banquet hall... or at least as much as Helbrecht was capable of 'liking' anyway.

"I'll only be a minute!" she reassured as she slipped from the common room of the suite into her bedroom. Dahlia closed the door firmly behind her and slid down the heavy wood until she was sitting on the floor. Failing to eat before taking off had been a huge disservice to herself. The exhilaration of the parade had come and gone, lunch felt like a mirage of the past, and her stomach was grumbling in protest after having been purged and starved for the better half of two weeks. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Samba Square would have all manner of foods for her to indulge in- and she wouldn't have to worry about 'unseemly portion sizes.' The healers had cleared her to eat anything she wanted so medically there was no reason to hold back. In front of representatives of other countries she had to watch her image- but not in front of a knight. Best as she could tell he wasn't a spy for Greedo's etiquette justicars.

"Is that Chantie?" she yelled through the door as she heard a familiar voice. "Let him in!" she continued as she stood, wobbling slightly before catching her balance, and then yanking at the back of her dress. Thankfully there were no observers to what transpired next. Dahlia was a healthy mixture of weak from hunger, excited for adventure, anxious about sneaking out, and clumsy, which culminated in struggling to pull off her dress and undergarments. Fingers slipped off every button twice, clasps were like accelerated arithmatic problems with a short timer, and for a second she stared blankly in the mirror trying to recall what her 'common girl' outfit entailed that royal dress did not.

Fortunately when she had fallen ill her family had relaxed their 'looking a princess' requirement. A few extremely comfortable yet worn nightgowns had been sent to her after her arrival in Euthalia but she had been allowed to travel in a very simple frock that made her look more a merchant's daughter than a king's. Tight corsets, itchy lace, easily tangled ribbons, and other accessories had just been too impractical for someone as sickly as she had been. Vomit did not clean off beaded and jewel-encrusted gowns well if at all. It was somewhat ironic, then, that she'd escape the palace in the same dress that she had arrived in. Dahlia hopped, twisted, and wiggled into the simple clothing before standing in front of the mirror again. Her cheeks looked less round, her bust even more flat, and her waist imperceptible. Weight loss had not been too kind.

 

[Peppermint Patty]

For about a minute, they stood face-to-face. Well, no, that’s not a very accurate description… Moreso like- face-to-chestplate? Tall as he was for an Arie, Chantie was still dwarfed by the monstrous armored man. He tried desperately to look into his eyes- trying to find where the holes he saw out of might be on the helmet, before finally giving up and settling his eyes on the highest part of the armor’s surface he could find. As seconds passed by in silence, a bead of sweat dribbled down the side of his face- it really was great that this man was following the princess, he didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone who wasn’t intimidated by the huge entity of armor. Did this man know that he’d somewhat-stalked them?.. Probably, upon reflection of the events. But, finally, it came- a response, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. Bracing for the death grip the man probably had, he sheepishly stuck out an arm to shake.

“Nice to meet you, sir… My name’s Chantie. I was- yeah, you just met me out in the hallway… I’m somewhat of a friend of the princess. She’d mentioned before coming up here that she wasn’t feeling very well, and I figured that I should check up on her. We haven’t spoken in a while, she arrived here long after I did for the ball- so I just wanted to catch up a bit as well.”

He gave an awfully insecure smile, and though he wasn’t lying, the stature of the man made him feel as if he was lying. So, he went on, gulping and rubbing the back of his head.

“Truth be told, I really don’t wanna be down there, either… I feel out of place. Just really want a way out, you know? It seems a bit like she does too, so I figured we could both be uninvolved… At the same time…”

Mentioned: Helbrecht ( Unwavering Knight ), Dahlia ( Syrenrei )​

 

[hosaki]

Kalen
Five seconds into Princess Evalyn's majestic entrance and Kalen already found his attention wandering. It wasn't because Evalyn wasn't beautiful -- that she was -- but the first course was finally making its way around and that gleaming silver dish which could be hiding any myriad of delectables beneath it utterly captivated him. A large steak, slices of pork roast, a mound of sausages... He was salivating at the endless possibilities when a low grinding noise startled him out of his daydream. It seemed to be coming from within the suit of armor next to him, a sound not quite humanlike in its disembodiment. Kalen shivered, staring at the knight, but then a servant whipped off the silver dish and...

Raw vegetables?! The shock of disappointment was just enough to push his other concerns to the wayside. Why hadn't they even cooked it? A good vegetable soup wouldn't have been this disappointing.

Sighing, he rose with the others to toast though he certainly wasn't included in the 'us' that Prince Blondie had used. Ah, well. Who could refuse an excuse to drink? He made to clink glasses with Helbrecht, but found the seat empty, its large occupant currently making his way towards the exit of banquet hall - curiouser and curiouser. As Kalen sank back down, puzzled, he noticed that the girl next to Prince Blondie had also deserted her seat. His bemusement melted into a knowing smirk. Hehe, so nobles were also susceptible to the passions of young love. But who knew, a knight and a noble lady... that always made for a good story.

Kalen sipped from his glass absentmindedly, assessing the young men present. Prince Blondie moved like a golem cloaked in human skin and spoke in an approximation of elegance, and neither Luciano or that dark-haired man looked like they were happy to be here. Prince Glasses Boy seemed like a smart guy, but he gave off a funny feeling with his strange outburst and general gloominess. It was decided; his bet lay with Senator Klaus as Princess Evalyn's suitor of choice.

Sorry girls, your "chiseled god" will probably be taken by the end of the month.

Amidst such idle musings, he was dimly aware of an encroaching boredom at the back of his mind. No wonder those old market ladies found so much joy in pairing up young couples; they had nothing else better to do. With a pang of yearning, he thought of the spontaneous dancing and singing that often happened after dinner when you threw a group of drunks and a fiddler into the same room. Of course, unlikely to happen in this setting.

At least the fruit wine was good. He took generous swigs out of his glass and wondered if and when the meat dishes would come out. Did nobles get full off of this rabbit feed they called 'salad'? No wonder Luciano was a twig, if this was all he ate. Kalen stuffed a handful of greens into his mouth, only looking up when someone shouted across the table to get his attention. He almost choked when he realized that it was the man he'd just been thinking about. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he heard right, that Luciano had been interested enough to talk to him, but then the viscount trailed off to look at the commotion occurring near the head of the table. Kalen, too, stared with fascination at the developing train wreck there; it didn't take a genius to tell that Prince Glasses Boy had broken some protocol, with the way most of the others were staring at him like he had grown an extra head. He'd only changed his seat, what was the big deal? The Marine Princess could sit in one of the many empty seats around the table. Heck, the knight had left an open seat right next to him! Maybe he could ask her about the samba over the course of dinner.

Kalen was just about to put forward this excellent idea when Luciano once again attempted to strike up conversation, this time directly addressing him by name. Or issued a challenge more like, if the viscount's smile was any indication. The night was proceeding better than he could ever have imagined.

"I'm from Ramula, in Euthalia." Kalen smiled brightly. "As for styles, you'll have to wait to find out. I don't give out information to my competition, but you should know that I always put my best foot forward when it comes to dance. Even if you do call yourself the best."

He downed the remnants of his glass and flashed the viscount a cheeky grin, expecting a groan or at least a frown at his crappy pun. A response of such a nature would be in character from what he knew of the man.

Pretzel Heart

Tristan Thaddeus Sinclair

Tristan flinched at Prince Kiefer's sudden interruption, panic briefly flashing in his eyes. Had he slipped up somewhere? His mind raced back to the words he'd just spoken, combing them for any accidental slights that might need remedying. Finding nothing, he only nodded as Kiefer excused his outburst with overeagerness.

The moment over, their gathering was once again free to dine in peace -- if it weren't for the strange behavior of the Nezzien Prince. He watched, slightly horrified, as Kiefer proceeded to disregard the seating placement set by their hosts in favor of placing himself closer to the princess. Surely it was unintentional, but was he also supposed to be going to such lengths as Kiefer to garner the princess's favor? He felt somewhat lightheaded at the prospect of such bold declarations of courtship.

One ill-timed entrance by one Marine Princess later, and his lightheadedness had progressed into full-blown nausea. Tristan was certain that all of them had just imploded any chance they had of bettering relations with Marine, even if Princess Naomie appeared to be graciously accepting enough of the situation.

"Dahlia..." He turned to his sister for some reassuring small talk, but quickly paled when he realized that she'd vanished some time during the toast. Why hadn't she told him before leaving? Or had someone abducted her from right under their noses? The knight was gone too... Unsure of what conclusions to make, he attempted to calm himself with a drink of fruit wine, but knocked his glass over in his haste. The spill did not reach Luciano or Tristan, but the tablecloth was not so fortunate; its cream embroidery was now stained a dark red.

"Please excuse me."

He signaled a servant with as much calm as he could muster and requested a prompt message to Sir Lane, as well as a quick magical remedy for the soiled tablecloth, if that was possible.

"Apologies, my sister felt unwell so she excused herself. She was looking forward to meeting you all, but..."

He had meant to regain his composure with this statement, addressed to no one in particular, but then he heard his voice break up as he approached the end and felt it unsafe to continue. Reminding himself of her weakened constitution had been a mistake. He immediately redirected the flow of conversation away from his own affairs:

"What wonderful stories you surely have to tell." He smiled wanly. "I hear that Senator Klaus and Viscount Galleria often travel across the countryside alone, and the Marine Princess herself has traveled weeks by ship... If I were to relay your adventures to Dahlia, she'd be delighted."

Pretzel Heart , The Succubi Queen

 

[Unwavering Knight]

For the Lady.

For a moment, the knight just silently stared at the proffered hand that Chantie appeared so willing to lend.

Slowly, he drew his claw upwards, opening the armored hand to expose the palm, talon-tipped fingers outstretched. With slow hesitation, he moved the open claw towards the aria's granted hand. For a moment, an uninvolved observer would have seen the knight's clawed gauntlet hover beside Chantie's palm, talon open without touching him.

Then the next moment, the knight's claw snapped shut like a trap, sharp fingertips just barely missing vulnerable flesh as the grip achieved an uncomfortable tightness for Chantie, though thankfully did not cause any injury. It was clear that the knight was not used to catching hold of a limb without destroying it.

Awkwardly, the knight proceeded to shake the arien servant's hand, a series of doll-like motions more befitting an automaton executing a repetitive task.

After a few moments of unaccomodating hand-shaking, the knight released the civilian's paw "A strangeness. Usually commoners would be expected to bask in the presence of those assembled at a royal banquet." he commented on Chantie's hastened explanations, helmeted gaze scanning the aria intently.

"But if you wish to avoid the trend, feel free." Helbrecht ceased his scrutiny, turning aside to call for the princess "Lady Dahlia, have you finished dressing?"

Peppermint Patty Syrenrei

 

[Syrenrei]

Dahlia Lenore Sinclair
Princess of Greedo
​

"Ready!" Dahlia announced as she flung open the door. Her frock was unmistakably Greedan in style, but it was the simplistic sort of design expected from lower nobility or more wealthy peasants, not a princess. The color was darker green that edged into brown. Stitching made it fitted over the torso (but a bit loose with her recent weight loss) and flowing from the waist to the ground. Dahlia hoped the aesthetic made her look like a foreign visitor for the Cendrillion Ball rather than royalty. She knew not many of her people could afford to travel but some certainly could and did- especially the sort she was mimicking with her apparel. It was not the best disguise but it was the best she could do with what was on hand. To help conceal herself further she also pulled a cloak over her shoulders that was a deep, rich chocolate brown. For the moment she still had the hood down but it would be helpful for concealing her identity in a pinch.

"What do you think?" she asked Chantie more than Helbrecht as she twirled, put her hands on her hips, and smiled. "Do you think I can blend in? I'm hoping they won't look too closely in Samba Square!" After a second or two her enthusiasm diminished slightly as she worried about the implications of their adventure. Tristan could scold her- and he'd had every reason to- but it was unlikely that she could be punished severely for one of the escapades she so regularly had. Helbrecht was a knight and had some social standing. Dahlia hadn't been able to determine if he pledged his loyalty to any country and thus she didn't know which nation had authority over him. If anything happened to her, however, more than his honor could be tarnished. Chantie was in an even more precarious position as he was neither a knight nor the child of a monarch. No threat from her parents had ever stopped her from wandering outside the palace but that was because she did not risk others and the reward was great. Was she taking advantage of Helbrecht and Chantie? Would she mar their reputation?

"Do you want to come with us, Chantie? I was thinking we could see the sights of Euthalia besides the castle, eat some of the local food. I suppose you've been around the shops before but... this might be my only chance to get out! Depending on who my dance partner is I may spend most of the next month practicing," she explained to the arie before making her way over to a desk in the room. Dahlia pulled out a piece of stationary paper, a quill, and began to write a note for her brother. Tristan had undoubtedly noticed that she was gone now and he was likely to be disappointed. More than anything the princess did not want her only sibling to think that this was his fault- or that she had wandered into the world defenseless and alone. She did not want him to blame Helbrecht, or Chantie, or defying his wishes and allowing her to 'escape.'

Tristan,

I am sorry that I left the dinner so abruptly. There is so much for the heirs and rulers of the nations to discuss and I did not want to be a distraction from the great things I know you will do! I convinced Sir Helbrecht to accompany me to Samba Square and I am absolutely certain he will protect me. There are tales of this man in Greedo. He is a man of honour and great strength although I must admit he is a bit strange. Please do not blame him as it is better I visit local merchants with his presence than alone.

I love you and I promise to return to you in even better shape than when I left. I will return before it is too late and will bring you a present. There are many wonderful things outside of the castle. My heart yearns to see the beautiful things people craft outside these walls even if only for a short while. Indulge me this once because I know this opportunity is unlikely to come again!

-Dahlia

She folded the piece of paper carefully twice and slipped it under his bedroom door. None of their entourage would enter their private chambers without explicit instructions and even then she had confidence they would not read private correspondence. It was the best she could do to make sure the note was not intercepted. Truthfully even if it was there was nothing damning in her words. If anyone was to be shamed for their behavior tonight it would be her- because her letter indicated Tristan was completely ignorant of her plans.

 

[Peppermint Patty]

As the princess swung into his view, Chantie couldn’t help but appreciate the new look on her. Very often, he’d seen her in her royal clothing, but something at a level of formality much closer to his own was extremely comforting. He opened his mouth to compliment her outfit for a brief second-

"Yeah, you look great, miss! The colors really compliment your-“

Before stopping dead mid-sentence. Blend in? She was leaving the castle? Just as he’d expected, she didn’t just come up here because she was feeling ill, after all… For a few moments, he sputtered like an idiot, looking between her and the knight, back and forth, before finally getting his words together, after being invited to join the two. He spoke, trying to veer her decision away from this direction, but to no avail, as all the while she was writing her note.

“B-b-but, miss! You can’t- what if something hap-happened?! What’re we- how- how- … You’re in no state to go out anyways, you’re sickly! And there are thieves and- and- if someone found out who you really were, I could only imagine what would-“

His voice trailed off, as he realized more and more that this was an uphill battle- she was already ready, with a knight, a perfect outfit- and really, how as he going to convince her, anyways? Maybe he really should just come with her… To supervise, at the very least. Two people on guard is better than one.

“I suppose… Yes… As much as this sounds like it could go awry, I’ll come with you… But I think we really ought to come up with different names for each other. Or at least you should, princess. People might recognize your name, and if you don’t want others to know who you are, we should come up with a fake persona for you… And a reason for Sir Helbrecht and I to be with you. Or at least him. Most knights wouldn’t be seen out and about with a civilian without a reason… I’m not sure what to do for myself, but it shouldn’t be too much work, I’d imagine.”

Mentioned: Helbrecht ( Unwavering Knight ), Dahlia ( Syrenrei )​