Wolf Rawrrr
Wolf-Knight
Around 20:00
The Great Hall, Alicante's Royal Palace
And so it was that Maggie found herself seated next to Meric at the table diagonally across the hall from where A'kal and Laurolf were sitting. Most sensibly, Auri assumed his reserved spot at the queen's table, alongside the most powerful people in the kingdom - most of which arrived fashionably late. Of course, at an event of this importance, where guests were expected to arrive at least half an hour earlier if not more, fashionably late meant nearly on time - and erring on the side of caution. Few dared risk arriving after the Sorceress, and contrary to what one might expect, she tended to be punctual.
So it was this time. For barely a few minutes had passed when six knights in full ceremonial armour marched through the main gate, promptly standing aside to make room for the herald behind them. The Great Hall had been moderately quiet already, quieting down further as more and more people noticed what was going on, but it went dead silent as soon as the herald's first two words echoed off the walls.
"Her Majesty, Ilhirel of Wolfpeak, the Queen of Asgard and sovereign of its provinces; of Eldshaw, of Daskárd, and of Knalga - and the rightful ruler of all the lands and peoples within, by her own power."*
The herald gracefully slid sideways, his duty performed for the evening, and in the next moment there she was... The Sorceress, Ilhirel.
She walked into the Great Hall with all the dark confidence and calm of a conqueror unchallenged. The people rose from their seats in unison, their heads bent and eyes cast downward for a good few moments before they dared look up and behold their queen in passing - some of them for the very first time. She looked young, as if she were only in her early twenties; young for a sorceress and queen and conqueror alike. But while her true age could be subject to doubt, her beauty could not. Ilhirel was beautiful - not as the most beautiful maiden in the world out of some eloquent bard's far-fetched tale, but as a more down-to-earth kind of beauty. Stunning without being too perfect, and possessed of an odd, almost palpable allure. Her blonde hair was done in a fashionably messy half ponytail, in contrast to her signature red dress, immaculate with swirling designs of golden runes woven into the material. But that was all. She wore no crown, nor did she cover herself in shiny jewelry. Even her dress could be better described as robes, and had nothing provocative about it. If she were to be feared, or admired, or desired, it would be wholly because of her. And she was.
The queen made her way down the red carpet, flanked by ten elite knights in total; four of which remained by the door while the remaining six would escort her all the way to the table. But she was not otherwise alone. There were four other people in the procession.
The first couple were somewhat of a rare sight. A man and a woman, both of obvious Frigid Folk origin and dressed in clothes that confirmed that; fancy and expensive, but more practical than ostentatious. The style of the woman's dress was reminiscent of Ilhirel's, suggesting that she could have been a sorceress herself. Auri was able to identify her as Anna Elena Riannon, one of the leaders of the prestigious Yastrebov Academy in Alicante. The man he had never seen before, though there was recognition in Meric's eyes for Maggie to spy if she glanced that way. Whoever he was, he must have been very important - else he wouldn't be in the queen's company.
Trailing closely behind was General Niara Shadowleaf, commander in chief of the Royal Army and Ilhirel's feared right hand. The elf maiden was clad in her own signature armour, made out of some green metal with golden trims. This was not ceremonial plate but functional armour, though it appeared fancy enough to serve as such. Certain pieces of it were missing, leaving the dark blue skin of her shoulders and lower back exposed, among other places - else she'd look as fit for a battlefield as for a banquet. She seemed at ease, though her grey eyes were doubtless scanning the room - out of habit, if not for other reasons.
Meric tried to inconspicuously keep his face hidden, and Maggie remembered the elf saying back at Auri's residence how he and the general had a history, once upon a time. With that in mind, he was probably risking an awful lot by coming here. But all of a sudden it looked as if all such thoughts abandoned the elf, for he did openly look up - and then stare, flabbergasted. The same expression of near disbelief was on the faces of A'kal and Laurolf as well, and even Valtieri's iron composure suffered from a mild case of it, though Maggie probably couldn't see any of them. She could, however, see why.
A young girl, younger even than Ilhirel, walked next to General Shadowleaf. Her dress was more fit for the occasion than anyone else's in the procession; a Victorian style dress, satin by the glossy look of it, black near the ruffled bottom but otherwise colored a blue so dark it was nearly purple, wrapping around her shoulders with elegant double straps. Her hair was long and black, flowing down to her mid-back in subtle layers. Sleeveless, it revealed a long thin scar on the underside of her right arm, from the hand nearly up to the shoulder, like the imprint of forked lightning on her skin, or the twisted roots of a tree. Tinted dark purple, it didn't look like any normal wound.
It was Dina.
Even Auri could deduct that as she came closer, from the descriptions he heard earlier. It was Dina. And in the one place they hadn't expected to find her. The look on Meric's face was clear as day to the Chosen: So much for that plan.
*The Sorceress used a slightly altered version of the royal style of the Tenárus bloodline. The Kossariat League had been removed from the list of provinces following its complete destruction in the Great War, with all of its previous territory annexed as simply an extension of Asgard proper. But the most striking part was probably the ending, which had remained the same for over three thousand years as: "... by the grace of the Maker", until Ilhirel usurped it.
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