Fantasy ⭺Of Blood and Gold⭼

[Pine]

The Queen of Setlain. Gwilym had recognized by the crown she had been someone of importance, but he'd definitely been aiming lower than where he'd hit. At least if she had been a princess he would feel much less pressured. Only then did he start to recall how he'd been told numerous times that one of the queens there would be very young. He felt certain that someone or several people had explained how exactly this came to be, but in that moment, the details were lost to him.

Propelled by a nervous pang, he felt all the more excited for the chance to just talk about food.

"That's an interesting question, come to think of it. I'm not entirely sure, though I wish I knew." As he thought, Gwilym's fingers fidgeted to drum on the nearest surface in his reach - that was, his pants. "We do trade with a lot of different countries, I'm pretty sure. It'd be no surprise to me if Astrya's lemons were one of those trades."

Still tapping a hand to his thigh, he looked up to the ceiling in concentration. "I don't get to visit the kitchen all that often. I had some more freedom for that as a kid, but not so much as I've grown older. I remember everything smelling and tasting so fresh. I wonder how that is, if all those ingredients were shipped or taken on a carriage. Surely they'd all have gotten past-ripe by that point, wouldn't they?"

His fingers stopped when he remembered the servants not too far from them. Gwilym walked to grab a cake and plate right by the Setlain pair and leaned across the table for the nearest servant's attention. This wasn't the head chef, but he'd seen the man before during banquets such as these where he also supervised the banquet tables. "Excuse me, do you happen to know where's the lemons are from for these?" He lifted his plate to indicate the cake.

"I'm afraid not, my prince," he said with an apologetic bow of his head. "Perhaps the Royal Chef, Orna, may know, but I'm afraid she's a tad preoccupied now."

"Oh," Gwilym said, frowning now.

 

[sprouhtt]

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

“Relax?” Alena questioned. “What is relaxation? I do not think that I have ever relaxed in my whole life.” She told Tenebris.

Alena looked nervous before, but when she saw that Tenebris had no idea what was going on. It was probably for the best, but when Alena saw another man coming over, she only blushed even more when his eyes landed on her. Alena gulped her words down when he introduced himself as the crowned prince of Astrya. Alena didn’t understand how she was attracting this man eyes and conversation. It was because of the dress, she assumed. Alena didn’t think it was for her beauty, she always thought that she had a simple face to go with her ‘simple personality’, she was always modest and didn’t brag about her beauty like the other women in this kingdom.

How can I lie about my name, if I still have yet to give it out? You accidentally wear a dress that is not yours and gets taken to an event not meant for someone of my class and all of a sudden they think you are a lie too. I have not even given out my name and yet it already feels soiled. Alena was baffled and couldn’t say anything to the Princess, she had no way of saying anything to the women without being heard by the men. Even though Alena’s voice is as quiet as a mouse, she was too close to the other two for them not to hear what she would say. Alena decided that she would go and bring the dress back to the women and also apologize. Alena turned a bright red when the women said the dress looked really good on her. A servant like Alena wearing something that cost her whole life, was something that she never thought she would be wearing.

Alena cleared her throat and only did a solid single nod when the women finished speaking. Alena ran her left hand up and down her arms.

Alena didn’t know what to say to Prince Andrew, she did think it was kind of funny how he handed the wine to his youngest brother and then Camille took it away. Was she really that mesmerizing in this dress, maybe this dress was good luck? If the other servants could see her now, they’d probably believe she is of royal blood.

“I really do believe that I should get going, the person who I had accompany here seems to have disappeared.” Alena lied as she made it seem that she was looking around with her eyes before they landed on the crowned prince. He wasn’t ugly, and he seemed kind. Though Alena does not spend her time having it revolve around the royals. Their lives are better then hers by a million and only thinking about it makes her want to disappear.

Andrew made it seem like Alena was the only girl at this event, just because of the way he was staring at her. He cannot be falling for someone like me, or maybe I am just losing my mind. She thought to herself.

 

[NextGenRolePlayer]

Tenebris Giroux
​

As he held Ms. Lady-In-Red’s hand, the only thing he thought about was what he subject he could interrogate her with. He figured his questions should start with who were the Freland royals then transition to any gossip about them. It would help him immensely. His train of thought halted after his sister stopped in front of the two.

Why, dear sister?! He thought. What do you want? He was quiet, speechless, to say the least. She kindly conversed with the woman in red. What made the situation worse for him was his older brother; the star of Astrya. The feeling of disgust dwelled through him, but he stayed strong to hide it.

Great, the star child… he remarked to himself. Both of his siblings were his, to put it lightly, least favorite people to be associated with. His sister, a talkative woman, and his brother, the future king. He especially loathed his brother; jealous that he would be Astrya’s king instead of him.

Back to reality, Andrew handed him a glass of wine and stole the woman he was about to interrogate. He proceed to kiss the woman’s hand and became affectionate towards her. Tenebris, angry that his plan wasn’t progressing as planned, was about to crush the glass to bits before Camille took it off of his hands. However, he calmed himself down and put on his friendly persona again.

“Ahem.” He coughed. “Dear brother, it seems you’ve met my new friend. Heh, I was actually going to get to know her a little more.” He had passive aggressive tone at the last comment. "If you don't mind, big brother, I would like to speak with her... in private."


Interactions: Rusty of Shackleford sprouhtt FoldedPages

 

[kibou]

As Perceus spoke Solomon finished off the blueberry pastry, and started on the few honeyed strawberries that were on his plate, chewing absentmindedly and paying more attention to his conversational partner. The advisor’s sudden desire to chat and delighted demeanor had been an unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome change in pace from their few past strictly-business interactions. Perhaps it was just the celebratory atmosphere, or the wine? Not that it mattered.

Solomon shifted in his seat to face Percy better, resting his elbow on the table near his plate. So, the advisor’s duties extended beyond what the title implied. Though to what scope the trades, treaties, marriages, and the like could be planned beforehand most likely would’ve impacted his work as well. Either way, the level of responsibility for the country’s affairs that the position required was respectable. He didn’t envy him however- no doubt his prediction of complexity would come true. While Solomon hadn’t been keeping up with current politics as closely as he used to, if there would be one constant, it’d be that nobles could be difficult to deal with.

Percy’s gaze flickered away for a moment, distracted, and Solomon followed his line of sight. Ah, the door. Someone coming or going. The advisor apologized, and he waved his hand dismissively.

“Spring always brings cases of rose fever. Thankfully other than that, I haven’t been too busy. Not that I mind the work at all, but it means people are in good health and it gives me time for… further study.” he had paused for a moment mid-sentence as a third approached and demanded his attention with her disordered gait. The guest, dressed in a familiar style and presumably from Setlain, and promptly knocked over a chair before bursting into a fit of laughter.. The Setlainder’s second attempt was more successful, and she took a seat next to Perceus, and planted her face onto the table.

Solomon raised an eyebrow and threw a look towards the advisor in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Someone was enjoying the party. She managed to quell her giggles, and took to staring at both of them, first Percy and then himself. Before he had a chance to ask if she was alright, however, she proved that she was absolutely not by grasping the plate Percy had been eating off on and ridding herself of whatever she eaten that night. Oh gods. Solomon let out a soft sigh.

“Speaking of work. One moment.” He set down the strawberry that he had in hand, and stood, looking around the room before taking a few strides from the table to stop a nearby servant that was carrying a tray.

“Excuse me, but one of the guests has gotten sick,” he spoke in a low voice, and gestured towards the table, “and if you could have someone bring some plain bread and water to the infirmary, I’d greatly appreciate it.” The servant looked at the scene with much reluctance, but nodded and left, likely to grab some help.

Sol turned back to the table to address the drunken girl, and crouched down by her side to address her, and gently placed his hand on her elbow.

“Miss, do you think you’d be able to walk? Let’s go somewhere quieter for you to rest, alright? I’ll have a servant tell your party that you’re in the infirmary. I’m this court’s healer, so you’ll be in good hands.” He reassured.

With her agreement, he stood, and offered her his hand for support. He glanced over at Percy, and the sorry state of his grapes. “I hope the rest of the celebration is more enjoyable.”

Solomon led the Setlainish girl around the outskirts of the room, avoiding as much of the crowd as possible on the way to the large doors. Before they left, he stopped another servant.

“Please inform our guests from Setlain that I’ve taken Miss…” he looked to her, and waited for her to fill in the blank, “... Miss Oleander to the infirmary. Thank you.” She definitely wasn’t the queen, and though he went through a list of other nobles in his head, he hadn’t able to place a name to her face. Oleander didn’t ring any bells either.

The walk to the infirmary was mostly uneventful, and took place in silence. Once inside the sizable room, he brought her to one of the beds. A servant was waiting with the bread and water he had requested, and he set the tray on a small stand next to it. “Thank you, you may go.” He sat on the bed across from Oleander’s, and faced her.

“You can rest here for awhile, or stay overnight if you wish, and if you begin to feel sick again there’s a pan beneath the bed. Luckily, I don’t think too many people noticed you, but please try to pace yourself next time.” Even though she hadn’t caused too big a commotion, it was not the best first impression one could give when representing their country, and was half the reason he had her leave. How or why one would get this drunk at an event such as this, Solomon did not know. Still, he kept his judgement to himself and kept his tone even- surely she was embarrassed enough already. “I had some food brought that’s easy on the stomach” he gestured to the stand, “and if you think you’re up to it I can make you something that’ll help clear your head.”

 

[Wert]

Madeline & Rowana

Prince Gwilym was as clueless as her on the subject, which she should have known. After all, it wasn't a requirement for him to be up to date on all of the trades since he was currently just the prince. She felt a bit guilty when the servant's answer made him frown, her brows slightly furrowing upwards. "It's alright," Madeline voiced, her gentle expression quickly recovering, "I was merely curious."
It took the young queen a moment to realize that Gwilym's previous fidgeting and visible disappointment may simply be because he is nervous, though she couldn't tell the extent of it. She had heard a few things about him before reaching Freland, and some were less than kind, but it wasn't uncommon for information by word of mouth to be hazy or exaggerated. Maybe not so much in this case. Either way, Madeline was still curious about what type of person the prince might be. She fiddled with the soft material of her dress for a moment as she spoke, "Freland is quite large, there must be a lot to do here. Is there anything in particular that you enjoy?"
Madeline hadn't thought about how her curiosity could just be making the Prince more nervous, but she also didn't have the time to add on to her question. Only a moment after she spoke, she noticed a servant approaching Rowana and whispering something in her ear that made the black haired girl's brows furrow.

"What is it?" Madeline inquired, a serious concern in her voice.

"It's Ollie, your majesty, she's been taken to the infirmary." Rowana had stepped closer to her queen, placing her hands gently onto Madeline's arm.

"Go find Christine, please," On cue, Rowana left her matron to search for the other Lady, disappearing into the throng of nobles. Maddie's free hand now rested on her stomach, a visible sign of worry despite her composed expression. She hadn't been given the details of Oleander's state, or known where Christine was since she left with Ollie. Could they have already gotten in trouble? Or perhaps it was something that isn't as serious.

"I'm sorry, Prince Gwilym, I need to check on my Lady," She slightly neck bowed, gave her empty plate to a servant, and thanked them before asking for directions to the infirmary. It was a little convoluted, but she would do the best she could with the information. The young queen had a certain urgency to her step as she made her way towards the door. Rowana was no where that she could see there, and she wasn't quite sure about traversing the castle so late, yet she didn't stop herself. At the moment, her Lady was more important than her unease. She opened the door before a servant could reach her and instead let them close it behind her. The hall was nearly dark, kept alight only by candles lining the walls and the small amount of moonlight that managed to come through the windows. Perhaps this is why most people were sent to their chambers by now, the night time in Hoellan was darker than one would expect. Maybe the had taken some of the candles to use for the Banquet, who knows. Madeline took a moment to breathe and continue, focusing on following the directions given to her to find the infirmary. She knew Rowana would be close behind her shortly.

Interactions: Gwilym Pine


Perceus

Percy's brows rose slightly when Solomon started informing him about his work. He had previously assumed that spring would bring more work for the healer, but from what Solomon said this wasn't the case in the castle. The same couldn't be said for the commonweal, knowing full well that the city below has had more than it's share of troubles this spring and with few healers. Percy's attention was pulled from Solomon when one of the setlaindish girls approached the table. Well, it was more of a few wobbly steps than a graceful walk. She failed at pulling a chair out before taking the seat close to Percy and placing her face on the Table. His expression showed confused concern, despite him trying not to chortle at the scene, glancing over at Solomon. He cleared his throat and leaned away from the girl when she grabbed his plate and expelled whatever she had eaten that night on to it,"Well then."
Percy wasn't too happy about this, the girl was obviously too drunk to function properly. How much had the servants been giving her, why wouldn't they stop her from having more?- It was a small task and yet they failed to perform it tonight. Although, this was more of a concern for the general well being of the guests and how Freland would come off letting them get so inebriated they can barely stand. Solomon wished him a better night and he sighed, letting the irritation settle before he stood.
"Landon," Percy called to the nearest servant who wasn't administering food, "Please get this cleaned up before something happens to it, and tell Griselda that I need to speak with her first thing tomorrow."
The blonde boy nodded his head and scurried to get the work done. "Thank you," Percy said as he fixed his surcoat and partially smiled, coming to look around the room. His gentle eyes settled on a relatively familiar face in an unfamiliar situation, his lips pursing into a thin line. For whatever reason, one of the servant girls was in the company of royals, and dressed like a noble. Percy wasn't sure about approaching the situation, or if he'd let it play out with a possibly dangerous outcome. The advisor moved from where he stood, not bothering to hold in his expression at the time. Anyone who had been in the same situation as him previously would be expressive, so it was only natural. He decided he would simply talk to Griselda about it later and let the girl take whatever consequence comes from her actions. Instead, Percy moved to sit somewhere else and wait for the day to end.

Interactions: Solomon, Oleander
Mentions: Alena, Tenebris, Andrew

 

[aergie]

Oleander sputtered and coughed, wiping at her mouth with a cloth handkerchief that had been sitting on the table. Oh, Maddie is going to be so disappointed, she thought, but Rowana… Ollie was certainly going to be in a lot of trouble once her fellow ladies and queen found out about this.

Had she been poisoned?

She’d only had a few drinks, around the same she would have had back in Setlain. Oleander squeezed her eyes shut and focused on steadying her breathing, praying for an end to her suffering. She was certain that this was the most sick she’d ever been. Another wave of nausea hit, and she covered her mouth with a moan, but did not vomit again. Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about Maddie or Rowana being angry with her--she was starting to convince herself that she’d been poisoned.

Ollie jumped at the feeling of a hand touching her arm, and quickly pulled away.

It was one of the two men she’d vomited in front of--not the man whose plate she’d stolen, at least, but still a stranger. As the man spoke to her, her eyes darted around the room, seeking out her queen and fellow ladies. Once he mentioned he was the court’s healer, she relaxed. Feeling too ill to refuse the help, she took his proffered hand and allowed him to lead her out of the room and through unfamiliar halls.

She kept a tight grip on his hand--still unsteady from the drink--until they stopped at a bed, obviously having reached the infirmary. As the (still unnamed) man spoke again, she nodded, eyeing the bread and drink set next to the bed. Her face heated when he suggested that she pace herself next time, but she waited for him to finish speaking. Once he motioned towards the food, she picked the items up and took a small bite of the bread before taking a sip of the drink (water, thank the Lord). She took a few more bites of the bread before washing it down with the rest of the water, and then returned the cup to the tray with a clatter.

“I only had a few…,” Oleander slurred, “cups. I think...are you sure that this is--” (a hiccup), “--normal? I feel ill, like something’s wrong. Does….does it...Could I have been poisoned?”

She wobbled a bit on the mattress, hands busy fiddling with the hem of her dress, eyes intently watching the man sitting across from her.

 

[jones573]

Emerson thought this was going fine, all things considered. His small talk had been charming yet inoffensive, he had two dance partners lined up for songs later in the evening, and he’d sort of made friends with a princess, even if she had needed to go investigate the mystery of her potentially stolen dress. What had become of that, he wondered idly, scanning the crowd idly until he located the girl who looked like Alena but obviously wasn’t, since that would be – Hmmm.



On closer inspection…. That was definitely Alena. She looked a bit like a mouse who had wandered across the path of a sleeping cat, not yet in danger but very aware that the slightest action might spell doom.



“There you are!,” he told Alena cheerfully, coming up behind her and tapping the side of her arm. “Ah, pardon me, Your Highnesses,” Emerson interrupted, bowing slightly but otherwise not acknowledging that he was imposing on the conversation of two foreign princes.



“I’m told that messenger finally got here, I know you wanted to know as soon as the letter from your uncle had arrived,” Emerson informed Alena, inventing some urgent family correspondence that needed seeing to. He intertwined their arms so they were joined at the elbow like old friends and began to steer her away. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, gentlemen,” he told the princes with a cheery wave and nod farewell, before turning back to Alena and continuing, “The return courier is already preparing to leave, but he can’t wait much longer if he’s to meet up with that caravan by the morning, so I hope your reply will be brief-”



He kept up the nonsense for a few beats longer, until they were past the princes and anyone around them was engaged in their own conversations.



“Don’t close off your shoulders towards me,” he advised in a mutter, aware she was probably uncomfortable with how he maneuvered her hand around his arm but not wanting to risk her body language giving them away. “Tilt your head down and in my direction, we’re having a very engaging conversation, so no need to meet anyone’s eyes and make it easier to recognize you later. Since I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this?”


Interactions: sprouhtt , NextGenRolePlayer , Rusty of Shackleford

 

[Wert]

Time Skip

As the night grew later the festivities came to an end. The banquet went quite smoothly considering the absence of the king, and the next two days were days of rest for Freland's guests after their travels.

On the third day Hoellan came alive with people working before the sun could rise. Yet, when it did greet them for morning it brought with it the start to a long day of warmth and humidity. Only the occasional breeze drifted through to help ease the spring heat. The insides of the castle were kept cooler in most places due to the thickness of the walls, but ice was still provided for those who couldn't bare even the slight heat wave inside. As many people were inside, and not because of the heat. A meeting was about to be held in the throne room, where only the royals and their witnesses were allowed to attend. For this, tables and seating were moved from the celebration hall into the throne room for their guests' comfort, but they were entirely optional. A few small trays of snacks and melting ice were also made available for them. Some had already made it to the throne room, and others were yet to be seen. Even so, it would begin shortly.​

Season: Late Spring
Weather: Hot, High Humidity
Time of Day: Mid-Morning​

 

[sprouhtt]

Location: Castle Garden
Activity: Picking Flowers
Interactions w/: N/A
Mentioned: jones573 NextGenRolePlayer

Alena was surprised that nobody was talking about her little fiasco last night and how she pretended to be someone else on accident. It wasn't her fault that she caught, or maybe it was...just a little bit. Alena did feel ashamed in herself and if she were still in her village and did something like that, it would bring shame to her family. The thought of her family ran across her mind as she though about them. Oh, how she missed her mother, the only good earthed person she had ever known. Alena sometimes can still hear her voice, through the winds in the early mornings.

Alena knew there was a meeting going on in the throne room where the Royals would be discussing political or economic solutions or problems within their individual kingdoms. Alena felt as though the Royals were running around in circles and did not know one thing about the ruling, not that she could ever know. I wear a royal dress one time and get mistaken as someone important, and now my brain is trying to think like an authoritarian. What is going on with me? She asked herself as she ran a cloth across a beautiful vase that was set on a small table in the hallway.

When she was done wiping it down and making sure it shined she made sure to make her way away from the throne room, she did not want to see Emerson. Alena knew that since Emerson had saved her from that embarrassment from last night, though he did ruin her encounter with Prince Andrew who she kind of hoped to meet again. WHAT!? What was she thinking? She can't meet him. He would definitely throw her in jail for trying to be an impersonator and 'thief'. Alena shook her head and cleared her throat and looked around for any signs that he might be coming or anyone else. Alena felt way too humiliated to cross paths with him again, she did not want for him to give one of his judgemental looks. Though they are not harsh, they are subtle and Alena notices it.

Alena found an opening and went out the door and towards the gardens, the head servant did not need her help this morning and it was pretty strange for that to happen since there is always something happening around this castle. Maybe she knew of Alena's antics last night and was trying to decide on punishment? Alena shook her head and tried to get it out of her mind, but before she had made her way out, she traded her cloth for a straw basket to put some flowers in it for later dinner. Alena adored flowers and decorating the place with nature, making the castle hallways come alive and look beautiful.

It was just Alena, nature, and the soft breeze against her skin as she picked flowers from the endless garden.

 

[Wert]

Perceus
Percy awoke early that morning, as he did every morning, with a quickness in his step. Though he spent the past two days and nights gathering information to help with the meeting today, he still felt they were ill prepared. Without say from Berwin many of the negotiations may not stand for their guest's parents. Suspiciously, the king had yet to return from his hunting trip, even still, they couldn't hold off the event any longer. It was their duty to do so given the guests were mostly there for the negotiations. He had spoken to Griselda after eating to make sure everything would be in place for the meeting. The head servant was generally quite reliable, so it gave him time to tend to Beast before he began his morning duties. The early morning dragged on for him, his mind rattling in different directions as situated this and that throughout the castle. The temperature gave him some energy still, being he was quite used to warmer climates. It was a welcomed break from the cold winter they endured this year. Percy made his way to the throne room after he filled some pages of the ledgers, and written a few letters in his room. Iron keys hanging from the loose belt knotted around his hips jingled softly with each light step he took. Although he kept the key to his own room hidden, it wasn't uncommon to see him with a set of them on a busy day. He needs most of them to access certain parts of the library and storage rooms, as do others who share the same keys. Birds sung to each other from behind the windows, breaking the near silence of the sunlit corridor. Percy decided to whistle with them as he continued towards his destination, a quiet tune well known throughout the country. He fixed the long, red surcoat draping his form from the wrinkles it carried on his way, only stopping for a moment to share a few words with the priest before he continued.
The whistling ceased once he made it to the throne room, an attentive gleam in his sly eyes. He began to look over everything, making sure nothing was out of place or left behind from the other day. A few servants who were once busy organizing the room were placed in certain areas, merely there to tend to the requests of their guests. Percy took a seat off center from the tables, near the thrones, deciding this was where he'd rest until he was needed or the meeting began.

Interactions: None, Open

 

[NextGenRolePlayer]

Tenebris Giroux
​

After the party, Tenebris suffered from restless nights. His repressed anger and frustrations prevented him from getting a good night’s sleep. His eyes were open as long as the moonlight kept shining in his room.

Practically staying up, reminiscing the events from the meeting with the Lady-in-Red to getting cock-blocked by his siblings. After his older brother took the Lady-in-Red’s hand, Tenebris wasn’t able to encounter her again. Somehow, she vanished into the crowded party. Even if he could talk to other royals, hindering him was confidence to find the Lady-in-Red and repressing his stress at the party. All the while, he kept up his kind persona on display. Everything about that party was mentally exhausting.

During the days he spent in Hoellan, he kept himself in his room still reminiscing about the events. Tenebris was still frustrated. He wanted to construct a plan on what he should do for the rest of his stay. The nights were occupied with scattered thoughts and hidden anger.

It was morning time. He “woke” up sharply and reminded himself that today was a new and different day. While he didn’t get any sleep, he was exhilareted to get started. He took note of what he should get done for the day. Research what you can about Freland and the Hoellan Castle, search wherever to find Ms. Lady-in-Red, make sure to attend the meeting, and avoid your siblings as much as you can! The prodigy carefully planned. He put on his traditional attire and made sure his appearance was outstanding. He took off from his room and calmly walked the halls.

First, I should seek out the royal adviser of this place. He thought to himself. All I remember of the castle’s layout is the way to the throne room. I do recall taking a quick glance of their library in this place. If anything, they should provide plenty of useful information... It took him a second to realize what he thought. His last sentence was rewarded with a facepalm when he realized he should have met with the royal adviser first more than anyone. In any case, he headed for the throne room in hopes of meeting the royal adviser.

Interactions: None/Open | Mentions: Wert sprouhtt FoldedPages

 

[Early]

Mattias H. Gladstone

The morning finally struck, and the sun hit the perfect angle through the stained glass to send a beam directly upon the face of the slumbering prince. One who let out a groan to vocalize his morning anguish, suddenly aware of the ache behind his eyes. A slow throb to indicate the familiar headache of a hangover, one you'd think he'd be accustomed to by now considering how often he repeated mistakes similar to those made the night before.

With eyes finally open, and moving to get out of bed, he'd remember before all else that today was the meeting he'd come here for. While he'd certainly prefer lazing around and mending the results of his repeated blunder, this was to be a most important occasion. He'd even managed to go the night prior a few days back without bumping into any of his relatives, oddly enough, and was able to act the role of a normal party goer. Since the banquet he'd been given into his carnal desires, even stepping out every evening to visit the local town to drink among this lands citizens. Though, the night prior he could only remember so much, and he certainly couldn't remember making his way back. "Uh oh." He'd remark as his memory of the night before eventually escapes him at a certain point, a painful reminder of his passion when it comes to indulging in red wine.

With slow movements, and a few groans of displeasure, Mattias would start to ready himself. Only after about half an hour would he emerge from his chambers. No servants to be found, and no help with his outfit, he'd enter the long maze like halls with a satchel slung over his shoulder and a confused look upon his face. "I was shown around when I first got here, but..." He'd looked left, then right, only to remember he was a little foggy after the journey here when he'd first arrived. Foggy being a bit beyond tipsy during the initial tour, though what else was there to do during the travels other than have a few drinks and read? "Left, I think."

It was after some meandering through the halls that eventually he'd bump into one of the servants tending to their daily duties. After some awkward small talk, more so for them since they weren't sure how to deal with a prince trying to jest with them, he'd get to the point and be given directions to the throne room. Which of course was to the right, and only a few turns away.

Walking inside he'd notice the presence of another immediately. Perceus was seated in the far back nearest the thrones, and it took Mattias a moment to actually recognize just who it may be. "I hope I'm not the only one dealing with a rough morning." He'd muse aloud to those in the room, though by now he wondered if he was the only one who maybe got a little too loose the night prior. It was likely he and the rest of the nobles had different ideas on what was acceptable when it came to partying. For example, maybe stop partying after the banquet, and not go on a three day binger with the locals downtown.

Either way, his small joke was responded to without word as a glass of cold water was swiftly brought over to where he stood nearest the entryway, just off to the side as to not block anyone's path. Fortunately his outfit and well maintained appearance gave way to the fact he was indeed not a simple commoner, though considering his reclusive life style it wouldn't surprise him if people didn't recognize him as the Crown Prince of Summerage. Even the residents of his homeland mistook the prince time to time, since he wasn't exactly out in the open as much as he should be.

 

[Pine]

Although not unusual for Freland's prince to appear frazzled, the quick pace Gwilym took to walking around the castle the morning of the meeting was. The instant he could wrench himself free from servants, Gwilym took to pacing the halls. He felt underprepared and overwhelmed. I mixture of his anxiety, brisk pace in his step, and the humid weather had his cheeks flushed and a heat in his head. When came time for the meeting to nearly start and no sign of the king still, the prince hurried off to the throne room.

Entering, he nearly missed their guest standing stationed at the corner of the hallway's entrance. He started to rush past with nothing more than a polite smile and poor eye contact, but stopped himself, backpedaling to attempt to more properly greet his fellow royal.

Gwilym squared his gaze a little more properly with the man. He recognized him now from one of the lords that had pointed him out during the banquet, but the Summerage prince had been otherwise preoccupied at the time, so they hadn't yet formally met. "Ah, Prince—" His name escaped him. Gwilym's eyes landed on the satchel over the prince's shoulder. "You needn't be carrying that around with you. I'll have one of the servants bring it back to your room."

He gestured the nearest servant in earshot distance, and without giving the other prince a chance to object for the sake of what he'd, probably, quite frankly, intended to carry with him, Gwilym hustled on.

He stopped just before the royal adviser near the throne chairs. "Apologies, my Lord, but have you heard any news from my father?" Gwilym asked in a more hushed tone.

 

[Wert]

Madeline

A soft voice woke Madeline from a deep sleep that morning. The sun had already rose a fair bit in the sky, signalling that she slept longer than she intended. Rowana was at her bedside still in her nightgown, a half smile plastered on her welcoming features. Madeline sat up and removed the cotton nightcap from her head, taking a moment to focus her groggy gaze on her Lady.
"Good Morning, Madeline," Rowana sounded before Madeline could.
"Good morning," She smiled sleepily, though she hadn't felt so rested in days. Her fingers tugged at the thin cotton sleeves of her night gown as her eyes grazed over the room, noticing the absence of people she often saw in the morning.
"Where is Ollie and Chris?," Madeline inquired, having been worried about them since the night of the banquet. Though Ollie had fully recovered from her drunkenness the day after, Christine was still missing, and Madeline wasn't sure how to go about trying to make sure her all of her ladies were okay.
Rowana placed a hand on her shoulder, letting it slide off when she spoke, "Ollie is okay, I think she may still be sleeping," she paused, helping Madeline remove the thick covers,"I still haven't heard from Christine. I assume she met a friend to roll around with and decided to stay a while," her voice was slightly judging, but it helped eased her mind a bit to know Rowana didn't hold the same concern. The smell of food wafted towards her, pulling her attention to the wooden bedside table. Rowana explained how she asked for it to be delivered so Maddie could sleep longer, and it didn't take long for her to start eating. She shared it with her Lady, not wanting her to go hungry in her rush to help.

The two conversed for a few more minutes before Rowana was sent off to get dressed. Madeline dressed herself despite usually needing help with her outer garments. Taking note of the warmth, she decided to wear one of the short-sleeved gowns brought from Setlain rather than one of the gowns her mother bought that mimic Freland's style. After pulling some of her hair back from her face in a simple braid she peered at herself, taking in design of the dress. Sea-foam blue with a gold brocade bodice and short, capped sleeves. The skirt was long and made of light silk of the same color with bronze flowers wrapping around her waist in vines. It wasn't a gown her mother would've picked for her and the neckline was a bit low, something she could already see Rowana scolding in her head. However, Madeline quite liked the dress and didn't feel up to another change, so it would have to do.
The young queen left her chambers once she was properly dressed and made way to the throne room. Unsure what time the meeting was supposed to be held, or how it would work with the King's apparent absence. She greeted a few people on the way there, her pace steady though her nerves were dancing. Her fingers twiddled with her necklace. Reaching the throne room was easier now that she had time to memorize where it was placed in the castle, yet still stepped inside with wary eyes as if entering an entirely new area. It was impressive how quickly the staff had set up the throne room- the night before it was nearly empty aside from what she could only assume were everyday decorations. Three people had already arrived before her, Prince Gwilym being one. He was speaking to a man she'd seen busily walking the halls of Hoelan these past few days. Rowana says he's the royal adviser, which makes sense considering his seating. The last, another young man also standing in the entryway, she didn't notice until a servant girl broke her attention when she offered her a cup of water. She recognized the servant as the young woman who had been helping her around the castle often.
"Thank you," Madeline said with gratitude as she took the cup in hand. When she sipped from the cool drink she watched the servant move back to the wall near the entrance, only to follow in her steps.
"Do you happen to know when the meeting will begin?" she asked with a kindly smile, using the girl's nervous pause to observe her.
The red-headed servant nodded as she spoke, "In just a few minutes, your grace."
Madeline started to turn to find a place to sit before she shifted back around, "May I have your name?"
"Gemma, M'am, Gemma Walsh," the servant seemed as if she had stifled some excitement in her voice, but Madeline couldn't tell if it was nerves or if she was happy about being asked her name.
Madeline continued to smile, taking another sip of water before speaking again, "I'd like to request for you to be assigned to me during my stay here, if you are willing."
Gemma finally let a smile slip, holding the jug of water more tightly, "I am, your grace."
Madeline was pleased by this, her gentle poise unwavering, "Very well, I will make a request after the meeting, for now I have to take a seat. Thank you, Gemma."
Gemma bowed to Madeline and the young queen moved away. It was a short conversation, but a much needed distraction from her own nerves. She also quite liked Gemma, something about her made her feel more welcomed. Her hazel eyes surveyed the room as she moved to take a seat on the right side of the tables. She wanted to sink in to the wooden chair lazily and go back to sleep. Instead she stayed put, placing the cup down next to a goblet filled with melting ice. Rowana or Oleander would be with her soon, she hoped.

Interactions: open
Mentions: Everyone in the throne room, Oleander aergie

Perceus

Percy was pulled from his thoughts when young Gwilym approached him. The prince spoke in a hushed tone compared to usual, his question one Percy guessed was coming his way soon. "I'm afraid I haven't heard from him since the night of the banquet, your highness. We received a letter stating that he would return yesterday, but, as you already know, he remains absent." The adviser gazed past him for a moment when someone else entered the throne room, but he quickly corrected his shifting attention. "I can send scouts to look for him, but I would need the Queen's consent," his voice, too, was hushed to mimic Gwilym's caution. He's never had much say over the guards officially, never having needed to until now. It was a rare occasion, the king missing on a hunting trip, and with unlucky timing.

Interactions: Gwilym Pine

 

[jones573]

Aside from the lingering bruises, Emerson was feeling pretty good. He’d managed to avoid going on his father’s hunting trip, which was a relief in that he neither had to pretend to be interest in hunting nor spend time with his father. Neither his own mother nor the Queen had anything in particular they were peeved at him over, and Gwilym hadn’t embarrassed himself badly enough to warrant Emerson’s concern or interference.



And he’d had fresh berries on his oatmeal this morning. It was the little things in life.



He smiled at his brother as he entered the room, but didn’t interrupt his conversation with the minister. Instead, he laughed at the heir of Summerage’s dry comment.



“I thought I warned you, Prince Matthias,” he said with a tone of commiseration. “Don’t go any further south into the city than the Hooded Pecker! Not if you want to be on your feet any time in the next week, anyways,” he allowed. He’d shown the older man around some of the more interesting nightlife around Hoellan, but Emerson’s new dedication to being a somewhat responsible individual had prevented him from truly enjoying the revelry the way he might have wished to.



“You look handsome as ever, though,” Emerson reassured him, “So I think you may not be in such dire straights as you claim. Ah, you have met Queen Madeline, I presume?” He waved at her in greeting, and crossed the room to bow over her hand where she sat.



“Your majesty,” he said politely as he straightened back up. “Thank you for joining us this morning. Should we expect your lovely ladies-in-waiting to be accompanying you today?”



Like himself, he expected they did not have a formal invitation for a seat at the table but it would hardly be rude for them to come- And if they did, he wanted to be sure the wine was sufficiently watered.


Interactions: Wert , Early

 

[FoldedPages]

The past two days had gone by leisurely. Camille relished in the interim leading up to the approaching meeting, becoming quite familiar with Hoellan and the immense castle's cobblestone corridors and best-kept passages. She even dared to venture into the town, mingling with the common folk, and learning of Freland and how its people lived and persevered. Donned in an inconspicuous dark cloak, Camille easily navigated the streets unnoticed, conversing, and laughing in gaiety with the various street vendors. Since her arrival in Freland, her times spent in the streets felt more like home.

She also had the pleasure of running into the lady-in-red who, of course, she now knew as Alena, a servant of Hoellan Castle. The Princess of Astrya was anything but enraged. In fact, she found the whole situation remarkably entertaining. That is why, when Alena insisted on returning the dress, Camille declined politely, ordering her to keep the dress instead. The two ladies then commenced in a "no, I insist" battle until Camille had the last word, leaving the situation. The night of the celebration, both her brothers had taken a liking to this woman. A playful smirk painted Camille's lips at the thought. How would this pan out?

The day of the meeting, the sun rose as it always did. Sunlight peeked through the silk draperies and reminded Camille that the day would not be filled with recreational activities. An uncomfortable heat stirred Camille to sit up in bed, a disdainful groan escaping her rosy lips as she stretched her taut muscles awake. There was no time to waste; being late to this meeting was not an option. She quickly stood and requested for one of the servants Freland had graciously assigned her to help with preparing for the day. This meeting was of utmost importance; therefore, Camille felt it imperative to make a lasting impression. She chose to wear one of the dresses she had designed particularly for this visit. It was a stunning vermillion color adorned with black lace and lined with golden trim; an ode to Freland's house colors. Due to the suffocating heat, Camille was thankful for the dress having short sleeves and cutouts. Still, she wore a drape over her shoulders to stay more modest. Eleanor (who she dubbed as Ellie), the servant Freland had sent her, masterfully knotted Camille's hair into an elegant updo, a gesture that would keep her neck cooler.

Once presentable, Camille thanked the servant and made her way down the corridors that lead to the Throne Room. Bystanders would think she had spent all her life in Hoellan Castle as she masterfully navigated her way to where the meeting would be held. Upon entering the room, her darkened irises immediately fell to two familiar figures and some she had not had the pleasure of acquainting with yet. Mattias, her dear cousin from Summerage, was standing idly near the entrance and Emerson, the man she had met at the banquet, was conversing with a strikingly beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in Setlain clothing. Towards the back of the room, a blonde who bared a slight resemblance to Emerson was conversing with an older gentleman. The two seemed engrossed in their conversation and Camille did not wish to be rude. Besides, her cousin had managed to avoid her and the rest of her family during the celebration, and she refused to allow that. After taking a goblet of water offered to her, she made her way over to Mattias.

"Mattias, my dear cousin, you would think you hated my brothers and I, not even saying hello at the banquet." Of course, she was only jesting, a hint of a smile on her lips to indicate so. "I hope your time at Hoellan has been pleasant. How have you been?" It had been quite a few years since the Gladstone's and Giroux's had the pleasure of getting together. Camille's mother often talked about Summerage and her childhood there. Summerage was one of Camille's favored countries, the wine and the architect piquing her interest. If Astrya and Summerage were not so far away, she would make indefinite trips to pay homage to her roots. While waiting for Mattias' response, Camille sipped at the refreshing water, the condensation misting the goblet saturating the tips of her fingers. Most would find the heat unbearable, but Camille's sunkissed skin was a testimony of her time spent in similar, maybe even more heated, conditions. She welcomed the heat, savoring the warmth. It reminded her of home.

Interactions: Early
Mentions: sprouhtt jones573 Wert Pine

 

[Early]

Mattias H. Gladstone

The Summerage prince was observant enough to know when his name went forgotten from the tongue of another, an occurrence that brought a slight widening of his smile was worn upon his already happy face. When caught up in the thrall of all this etiquette and royal decorum it was rather refreshing to feel less important. It was humbling, in a way, though this feeling would quickly vanish as a demand was made from the first to greet Mattias in this meeting hall. Gwilym had made an order for a servant, who quickly responded to move and help unburden the Summerage prince of his unnecessary belongings - Yet, to him it was very necessary.

"Oh no, thank you though." He politely declined, his eyes moving from Gwilym to the help who had approached. She seemed surprised, but he'd simply smiled to her and gave a slight shrug. Seemed she knew Gwilym and not Mattias himself, so a moment of conflict resided in her eyes as she realized she was being denied doing the duty requested of her - A task that she likely thought would be helpful, all things considered. "I'm fine holding onto this, I thank you though. If you could please instead bring out a tray of a dozen empty wine glasses?" With a soft voice, words meant for only her to hear, his pleasantness would seem infections as soon enough even the help intended to relieve him of his load now smiled and took off to the new task. From someone who may as well be a stranger to her, at that.

It's only after the servant made her way off that another voice called out to Mattias, the familiar tone of an already well meet friend; Emerson. "I've a habit of overstepping, I suppose." A nervous chuckle soon followed, now aware of the presence of Queen Madeline and her approach. Of course it was to be expected that his attention would falter upon seeing her, his memory acute even when in his most foggiest of conditions. He'd yet to see anyone arrive whom he didn't know before proper introductions, and if he wasn't sure he'd at least have a decent educated guess. On the travels he'd done his research, and asked a great deal of questions to those whom knew the guests he'd be meeting with. Not that he didn't want to risk being rude and forget them, but because he wanted to know just what type of people he'd be locked away in a castle with over the next unknown amount of time.

"You've put yourself together far better than I, good friend." This time a real laughter came out, the comment that could be construed as flirting was simply part of what Mattias took as overtly friendly. Not that he was particularly good at knowing when any sex is flirting with him, anyway. Though this conversation ended after the greeting, and now Mattias scanned the room to find just where it was he were to sit. It'd be bold to sit beside someone who didn't know him well, and vise versa, though it could also be a decent opportunity to engage with and learn more about them. Perhaps the queen would--

Crap. "If it isn't the fairest of the family." He needn't even turn to face the newest entry to know well enough who'd entered. "Cousin Camille." His voice rang with a sure enough happiness, one that couldn't possibly be faked, and as he turned and beamed a smile her way she'd realize just how happy he actually was to see her. The issue was he hadn't written in far too long, and knew well enough her families last attempts at communication may be brought up. Not like he could lie and say royal carriers failed a delivery. Stepping towards her in greeting, his hands would raise and he'd bring them to her shoulders; Soon after a lipless kiss would be placed upon both of her cheeks. A common greeting among Summerage families, especially those in the noble line. While shaking hands would do, it wasn't typical for ladies and lords, especially those who shared blood. "There was a banquette?" He then joked, knowing well she knew him enough to be aware of the fact that he's the type to imbibe enough to just maybe wake up not remembering an entire event, even one as epic as the banquette was. Though from his tone and glint in his eyes it was obvious he was jesting.

"Please don't make me feel bad, I could take that from the others but not my favorite cousin." A term he referred to all his cousins as, though maybe he meant it a little more with her. "As for my time here, well... Refreshing? You should visit town sometime, no one has any idea who we are. It's quite nice." He'd add, before nodding his head back towards the tables, gesturing for her to follow. It seemed he'd had an idea as to where, and whom to sit next to. Should she follow, he'd pull up a chair in a separate portion of the meeting room with none others at it. It was safe to assume that if both Camille and he were sitting together, the rest of the family could be expected to join them. The chair he'd pulled out was quickly noted to not be for himself however, as with a gesture of his free hand that wasn't still holding the back of the chair he'd motion for her to take it; Soon after pushing the chair under her so she was seated comfortably, only thereafter Mattias was comfortably sitting at her right side. With the satchel now slung over the back of the chair, no longer holding it but still keeping it near.

"I hope you've been having as much fun as I, and dare I say, been in as much mischief." The last bit was hushed, another joke among family. It'd be clear from across the room Mattias was a bit less formal than before, and oozed a presence of comfort and relief now that someone he actually knew well enough was around.

 

[Pine]

When Perceus gave his answer, Gwilym couldn't help but wince just a little. It didn't matter whether the royal adviser gave his full attention or not, because just as soon Gwilym was letting his own gaze wander in thought. He fidgeted, rubbing the pads of his fingers together.

He knew his mother, the queen, would be joining them shortly (she was never far from punctual), but if they were to send a search party, he'd much rather it be sent as soon as possible. Gwilym was tempted to ask if his own consent would be enough, but he had to stop to consider whether or not his mother would perceive that as going behind her back.

Luckily or unluckily, he didn't have to think it over for long.

With the queen arriving, Adara confirmed his greatest fear. She wanted him to participate in the king's stead, and to make matters worse, she wanted to start soon. Gwilym thought that he'd much rather be eating glass than have to say a word at this meeting.

There was hardly any concealing the panic in his eyes, even as he tried to force a persuasive smile. "Mother, don't you think we should have Perceus send some scouts after him? For all we know, he could be on his way now. Shouldn't we wait a little longer?" he tried to reason, though even he knew they could hardly afford to keep their guests waiting much longer.

 

[FoldedPages]

When Mattias took hold of Camille's shoulders, welcoming her with a common greeting amongst Summerage families, she followed his lead and placed lipless kisses on his opposite cheeks. "Please, Mattias, we all know I dim in comparison to you, but I appreciate the accolade." The statement was complete honesty. It was a well-known fact that both Camille and Tenebris failed in comparison to Andrew in their parent's eyes and Mattias, being an only child, was on a pedestal next to Andrew. Mattias, however, was a breath of fresh air whenever the Gladstones would visit. Though they grew up apart, Camille would dare to say the two had been close in childhood, even with a near decade between their births. The two shared a bond as Camille grew older, finding the two shared similar interests when it came to exploits and whimsical ventures.

"You humor me with your nepotism," She spoke, willfully following Mattias to an area separate from where the others claimed their seats. "You also underestimate me," Camille spoke, taking a seat in the chair her cousin had pulled out for her. She was sure to tuck her dress underneath her legs as she sat, remembering the proper etiquette for young princesses such as herself. "I've been to town often within the last two days. The people here are vastly different from Astryian citizens," Camille mused over her time in the streets. The people were her true motivation for peace and prosperity within Astrya, and she was lucky the country was abundant with wealth, allowing the citizens to live an almost carefree life. She was becoming acquainted with the people of Freland while her cousin was becoming acquainted with the taverns of Freland unbeknownst to her, of course.

Placing the goblet of water on her right, in between her and Mattias, Camille shifted her body to better face him and spoke up. "Of course I have, dear cousin," She peered around before leaning closer into Mattias, continuing to speak with her voice matching his hushed tone. "I've been scouring the halls of Hoellan and finding their secret passages," She said, leaning back to sit properly while still facing him. "All in good nature, of course."

Camille inspected the room and noticed the Queen of Freland had joined them, but the King was still nowhere to be seen. It was odd, Camille thought, for the King to have been missing for days leading up to such an important meeting. She watched closely as the Queen approached her son and the Royal Advisor, scrutinizing their facial expressions and demeanor as best she could from a distance. Unable to truly get a grasp on anything but their bearing, Camille inhaled a sharp sigh and turned back to Mattias "What are you hiding in your satchel?" She jerked her head to the bag slung over his chair, cocking an eyebrow. "You had been so steadfast in not allowing that servant to take the bag," She noted. Her right hand took grasp of her goblet, and she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. As the day approached high noon, any remnants of a brisk and bearable forenoon were lost, the melted ice and condensation on Camille's goblet evidence of such. Had she worn her hair down, she was sure the strands would be sticking to the back of her neck.


Interactions: Early
Mentions: N/A

 

[Wert]

Madeline

Madeline listened as Emerson spoke to the man, Prince Mattias. The conversation gave her a bit of comfort seeing as most of the people here seemed to be friendly with one another. For now, at least. She was unsure if this meeting would pan out the same knowing how kingdom politics were often said to turn aggressive. Nevertheless, she quite enjoyed hearing the banter. To her surprise, Emerson had brought her up and waved to her, a gesture she returned with a gentle smile. She watched as he walked closer to her and bowed, and she gave a neck bow due to her sitting.

"Ah Yes, I believe one of my ladies, Rowana, will be accompanying me today. I was allowed guests as witness to my Mother," Madeline responded, her tone just as friendly as poised. She hadn't gotten to know Emerson much so far, but he seemed quite friendly and lively from what she's seen, "It's a shame I've heard you wont be attending the meeting. I imagine it could use some livening up."

Interactions: Emerson jones573


Percy

Percy waited to see if Gwilym had a response to what he said, though the young prince seemed busy fiddling with his fingers in thought. There wasn't much of moment before the Queen arrived, as punctual as ever.
"Greetings, your majesty. We are missing the Fairhaven representatives, and I believe the crowned prince of Astrya hasn't arrived, either." After he responded, Prince Gwilym made a hasty inquiry about sending scouts to search for the king. It was apparent to him that Gwilym was nervous, maybe more so than usual. He hadn't kept much of an eye on Gwilym in recent times.

Interactions: Adara Snarfing Gwilym Pine

 

[jones573]

“Your other ladies can join us as well- I’ll fetch them myself, if you like,” Emerson offered to Madeline, realizing there may be some confusion about ‘attendance’. “Though it’s true only select few are invited to ‘attend’, that is a bit of a misnomer- The rest of us are allowed to be in the room, but we may not speak unless asked to do so by someone who sits at the table,” he explained.



“I get called on rarely,” he admitted. “But I am known for my fast tongue, so I may provide you with amusement regardless,” he joked.



Speaking out of turn was how he served Freland, after all. He interrupted with something ludicrous, and it made whatever his country actually wanted and asked for diplomatically seem all that more reasonable.



Even in the Freland court, he was seen as just his father’s bastard son- That anything Emerson promoted was just parroting the King’s own views in an attempt to curry his favor. Emerson had insisted to his friends that the Royal Treasury would not pay a single cent to repair the washed out bridge that crossed the river in the Baron Gefroi’s lands- Gefroi should have seen to its maintenance if he wanted to profit on that trade route! It was hardly the crown’s fault he was such a fool, after all. The King would get wheat for his kitchens from one of the other provinces, Emerson claimed.


When it was proposed that the Crown could provide the unskilled laborers from the prisons and would partially finance the materials for the project, to be paid back over time through the merchants’ tolls, Baron Gefroi had leapt at the opportunity.



Interactions; Wert

 

[aergie]

As Inga fastened a belt around her simple wool dress, she imagined that the engraved leather was also restricting the nervous fluttering in her stomach. Inga and her cousin had only arrived at Hoellan Castle on the previous day--they’d missed the banquet and therefore had missed any opportunity to socialize with the other nobles until this morning.

Not one to be nervous in social situations, Inga reminded herself of the advice given to her by her mother, the queen of Fairhaven. She had to succeed at this meeting, for herself, but most of all, her people.

Bite your tongue, Ingríðr. Your words may be too sharp for these soft people.
Be mindful of your scowl, it tarnishes your beauty.
Please, avoid any physical fights.
Do not embarrass your country.

She’d been repeating these comforting words in her head over the entire trek from her home in Fairhaven to Hoellan. Although she’d long felt prepared for a meeting like this, this trip was the first time Inga had ever left Fairhaven. She was determined to prove herself worthy of her title--she’d someday be queen.

The fashion of Fairhaven was more practical than showy--for this meeting, Inga donned a soft blue dress with sleeves that flowed around her wrists. At home, she’d normally be wearing a robe over her dress, but Freland was a lot warmer than Fairhaven. She’d pulled her long blonde hair into a braid hanging down her back and fastened the end with a strap of leather that matched her belt.
She gave one last glance at her reflection before leaving her room to find her cousin. Inga didn’t need to walk very far before she reached his room--Egill had insisted on staying in shared quarters, but she’d managed to negotiate him into agreeing to sleep in adjacent rooms.

“EGILL,” she hollered, banging loudly on the wooden door that separated her from her cousin.

Once he opened the door, Inga quickly slapped his left forearm in a bastardization of their usual greeting of clasping forearms. She smiled cheekily at him and turned on her heel to head through the twisting and turning hallways to get to the throne room.

After what felt like an eternity of walking--Inga intermittently stopping ostensibly to adjust her belt and hair (she’d never openly admit it, but while she knew Egill was plenty capable of taking care of himself, she worried about him, and slowed her pace or stopped when he noticed his limp worsening)--they arrived. Inga took a moment to straighten her posture and lift her chin before walking gracefully (she hoped) into the room. She let her eyes flicker briefly over the nobles who were already mingling before selecting a pair of empty seats for herself and her cousin.

Wert

 

[Never]

He slipped on the ring that was given to him by Andrew. Well, the fake Andrew that is. In truth the Prince had not attended the banquet a few days ago, sending one of his trusted Crew Members (who was very willing to mingle amongst nobles) disguised in his place as he went around gallivanting amongst Freland's Citizens. His nights were fun and free, something he'd need to ready himself for this meeting - which he wasn't looking forward to. With the ring of his family adjusted onto his middle finger tightly, he took another from Fake Andrew and slipped it onto his right pinky.

"I met the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in there, awww me heart was in me mouth. I didn't even get her name!" Fake Andrew had been rambling on about this woman in a red dress since he met back up with him. He was smitten, but from the sounds of it she was of noble heritage and the chances these two had were quite slim - though it was amusing to see this hardened sailor so easily melted by the sight of a beautiful woman.

"I hope you didn't ask her to marry you pretending to be me?"

"I almost did, I swear she's an angel fallen from the sky Captain."

Andrew looked down at the ground and let out an amused breath of air. He adjusted his sleeves and loosened the knots on his top, opening up his chest. It was a very hot day in Freland, being cooped up inside this Castle might get uncomfortable so he tried to wear suitable clothing that looked as formal as possible. Hopefully it was colder than it looked in there. Now with his attire fixed up and on the Real Andrew, he could show face. He wondered if Fake Andrew had been noticed much at the banquet and also wondered if people would ask questions about his identity; it was quite amusing to him... but probably not to his siblings who had kept up the facade as Fake Andrew reported.

The Crowned Prince of Astrya gently tapped on the door of the Carriage that had transported him from his gallivanting affairs to Hoellan Castle; the door swung open almost immediately after he tapped on it. Inside the carriage was a hardened, but beautiful woman, a dark woman some people would dare say is exotic; though her attire was nothing but common pantaloons, boots and a loose revealing top that someone at sea would wear - and her skin was visibly scarred all over. She was sat in the back right corner giving Andrew a distasteful look.

"You know you could always accompany me inside, dress up all nice and be my Sister's maid."

"No." It was a firm no, very firm and almost immediate, no doubt in her mind would she be entering that place and play house. "I will not pretend to serve you or your little siblings thank you very much." her voiced was laced with a venomous response, though all Andrew responded with was an amused smirk.

"Fine, I might be away from the Ship a while. Safe travels Nalani."

"Have fun with your posh banter and pretentious politics!" She slammed the door shut and the carriage rode off with her and Fake Andrew in it.

He turned on his heel and faced the Castle, confidently strolling towards and within it. He didn't really know his way around, so he asked the first available person some directions - seemed he came across a servant of the castle who happened to be heading that way anyway so he wasn't being too much of a nuisance to their working. Andrew never really liked to bother the servants in his own home, so found it even less comfortable bothering them in another's home. They were very kind about it however and he followed towards the meeting room. A woman caught his eye outside the room before he could even get to the door, she had a strong stature about her, fair hair and blue eyes, she was a beautiful blue figure that stood out amongst the Castle's hallway backdrop. From what he could deduce she was a Lady of Fairhaven, probably the Princess herself and a limping man who accompanied her. Seemed he wasn't too late and others were arriving. He gave a quick nod of his head towards the servant who had escorted him to the room as thank you and entered, pushing both doors open with both of his hands rested upon their surfaces and walked through.

Andrew took in the room. Took in the people in here, he could pick out most of the ones he had learned of and those he recognised. His Setlain ally and Queen was talking to what looked like a Man of Freland. Whilst the Queen of Freland and her Son were present, but not the King - interesting. The Lady of Fairhaven he had noticed earlier was finding seats for her male company. And...ah yes, his Sister did like to light up the room, who seemed to be comfortably sitting next to his Cousin - Mattias. Andrew's face beamed a smile as he walked over, his attention on them.

"Well well, looks like I somehow beat Tenebris to the meeting. I would've bet against myself to be the late one." Andrew jests to his sister as he reaches between her and Mattias for the closest pastry he could reach, his left hand placed on Camille's right shoulder gently. His gaze fell upon Mattias as he retreated his successful hand and bit into the snack, a look of happiness to see his relative again. Andrew had always liked Mattias and was glad he got close to at least one of the Giroux siblings, his sister was definitely perfect when it came to relations - her advice was always wise for such a young woman... and harsh.

"I'm glad you're here Cousin, we really do not see each other enough. Though I swear I saw you in one of Freland's Taverns the other night, I may have just been completely off my head." Andrew grinned again, his arms making gestures with pastry still in hand as he walked to the left side of Camille and took the seat beside her, he leaned back in his chair so that he could still get a view of Mattias as he spoke to him, using his foot to stop him from falling back completely by hooking it around the underside of the table, his other leg rested upon the other. With all the catching up in his head, he forgot to leave his Tavern mannerisms back in town.

Interactions; FoldedPages Early

Mentions; sprouhtt aergie Wert NextGenRolePlayer

 

[Wert]

Egill

Egill awoke that morning with a sweat, peeling a thin cotton sheet from his skin. He'd thrown the thick covers off of him in his sleep, made apparent by the pile of cloths on the floor next to his bed. He moved his left leg to hang off the side of the bed so he could reach the metal brace leaning against the oak buffet. Thankfully, it hadn't been sitting in the sunlight, and didn't sting when he grabbed it and fastened the clasps around his leg just enough that he could get up and move to get ready for the day. The heat was a bit unexpected to him, not having any clothes that would help him adjust to the temperature. He wore what he could, simple leather trousers, belt with an ax fastened to it, and boots, along with a thin, woven wool top dyed blue. Egill didn't stop to look at himself when he heard the familiar voice of his cousin, followed by banging on his door. He fixed the brace back over his leg tightly and opened the door, being greeted with a slap on his arm. He smiled slightly and closed the door behind him before following her to the throne room.

The meeting wasn't particularly something he was looking forward to. He wouldn't really be participating unless he needed to, and he knew that some things he wouldn't understand to begin with. For him it was simply listening to royals talk about what they were going to be selling, and hopefully keeping Inga from having an outburst. He was stopped momentarily outside of the door by a guard wanting his ax, and Egill reluctantly complied, handing the weapon to the guard and continuing to follow Inga to the seats she'd chosen. Though he'd grown rather used to the sound of the metal brace tapping against stone, he noticed how much louder it was in Hoelland even fairly muffled by people talking. The castle was larger than Fairhaven's own, and the sound echoed more here. He sat in the seat next to Inga, the wood creaking a little whilst he rested his back against it. It was warm, especially here since more people were around, and he could already tell he'd be sweating before the meeting was over. His blue eyes trailed over the people in the room as he took a piece of melting ice from one of the goblets and placed it in his mouth to chew on it.

Interactions: Inga aergie , Open

 

[kibou]

Solomon had awoken as the sun rose that morning and started his work right away, attending to the few people in the infirmary- an unfortunate guard that had been training outside too long and couldn’t cope with the heat, a couple of servants that were sharing in suffering the flu, and eventually a few others that stopped by with minor complaints or just to pick up medicines.

By mid-morning he was in the dispensary, a room that resembled a kitchen and full from top to bottom with shelves covered in containers filled with various substances, plants, books, and tools. He’d been taking stock of everything when a knock came on the door. Without waiting for an answer, it was opened, and out of the corner of his eye he observed a head with tufts of red hair pause, and then walk in.

“You’re a bit late today,” Solomon commented, and upon looking up from the piece of parchment he had been writing on saw that Merrick had placed a covered basket on the counter. “Is your mother using us to get rid of all the leftover pastries?” How many were even made for the banquet?

“You ate all the other ones I brought! But, no, um..” the young boy’s grin faded and he shook his head, both his hand and gaze lingering on the woven handle. “On my way here I passed Cecily, that Duchess you like- she was heading this way.”

Hearing the news, the healer put his quill down, tilted his head back, and slowly exhaled.

“Oh dear, what malady do you think is ailing her today?”

“Definitely hysteria.”

“Merrick!” Solomon’s twisted around to face him, nose scrunched up in a mixture of disgust and disbelief, eyebrows furrowed at his assistant who had begun snickering much too hard at his own joke.

“I- I’m-” Merrick could barely get his words out, and it looked like he barely had any more room on his face to grin, “I’m surprised,” his voice turned into a high-pitched squeak, “she hasn’t used that one- yet.”

“That’s the day I find a new profession.” He turned back to the task at hand with a few shakes of his head, picking up the quill and muttering a “by god” under his breath.

“Well, if you want to go out and tend to th’ herb gardens, I can watch everyone for awhile.” The redhead drew out the word ‘well,’ laughter still in his tone, and the suggestion gave Solomon pause once more.

He tapped the hard end of the quill against the parchment a few times. He was only roughly half done and the idea, of course, was to find out what they needed more of and then pick what they could from the gardens.

“And I’ll finish in here too.”

But either way, the plants needed to be cared for and he preferred to do it himself rather than have any given servant tend to them.

“Right,” he set the quill down once more, “If you need me-”

“Yeah sure I’ll have someone go find you. And I’ll disappoint Cecily, tell her I’ve got no idea where you went.”

Solomon placed his hand on the shorter boy’s head and ruffled his hair as he passed by, lips pulled back in a half smile.

“Which way was she coming from?”

“Uhhm, the dining room? And I’m glad you’re feeling better today!”

“What?”

“You’ve been grumpy!” Merrick called out after him and Solomon gave a shrug and shook his head again without looking back as kept walking down the hall. His assistant certainly was something, sometimes.

The way out Hoellan’s doors was uneventful, and Solomon stepped outside to a comfortable warmth, the sun shining brightly with a fluff of clouds smattering the sky and a gentle breeze ruffling his loose hair.

He walked through the flower gardens, spotting one of the servants bending down close to the ground. As he approached, he was able to make out who it was- the foreign girl Alena, of course. He didn’t know her well but they’d crossed paths in the area multiple times in the past, and she seemed to be picking flowers almost as often as the servants whose jobs were to maintain the grounds.

“Good day to have been given a break, isn’t it? It’s lovely out.”

sprouhtt