Realistic or Modern The Devil's Throne - IC (Open)

[Misty Gray]

The Devil's Throne - IC​

Chapters
Chapter 1: The Gallows
​

Currently Active Cast: Misty Gray Melanin-Gxdess Ms. Sparrow arryn seasonedcat Hysterical ryesnatcher FireMaiden
​

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 1: The Gallows

The September day had been a warm and sunny one, drawing attention to the beautiful gardens and sculptures around the palace grounds. It was difficult to think of the darkness that clouded the palace and the barbaric punishments that had taken place a short distance away at the gallows. Thankfully, the princesses were shielded from such harsh politics and were kept away from brutal practices such as the executions.

As the afternoon approached its end, the royal family would be aware dinner was approaching. There was still some time left to enjoy what remained of the sunshine, but they would need to ensure they were dressed and ready in time for dinner. The King didn't like people being late for meals. But for now, enjoy the sunshine before what's bound to be a less than pleasant time around the royal dinner table.​

Christopher Ravenswood​

It had only been a little over a week since Margaret's execution and the king had already ordered Christopher to oversee the hangings of three more criminals. The three men in question were guilty and no doubt deserved punishment more than the young maid had, but yet another public execution was simply tiresome. He didn't care about those three men and any families they might have left behind. They knew what they were doing when the broke the laws of the land and that the king would punish them accordingly. Christopher simply found it tedious that he had to waste his time overseeing the circus whilst the public stood and watched, having nothing better to do with their own insignificant lives. On the plus side, his disinterest for today's spectacle was preferable to the previous week, where he'd had no choice but to stand by whilst an innocent girl was hanged. After the torture she'd suffered through, he felt there was no choice but to hand a death sentence to the maid. Margaret had been left in a terrible state and were she to speak up of the barbaric treatment, it wouldn't have gone down well with the public. Christopher wasn't about to claim he'd spared the girl from the suffering of her wounds, but the torture she had endured had left the maid in great pain. Whilst he knew similar pain, he'd been forced to learn to take it, but Margaret had lost her will and her mind had been destroyed by her suffering. He believed her execution had released her from her own inner turmoil.

Christopher had wasted little time in returning to the palace once the show at the gallows was over, not even bothering to address Gabriel who'd had to escorted the three men to their deaths. He'd seen enough of the guard that morning, as the pair had trained together. Gabriel had been training the princes since they were old enough, and though Christopher believed himself to be competent he was sure there was much more he could learn. Today he'd learned not to spar with the better swordsman when he was distracted by his own anger. Now standing in front of of the mirror in his lavish bedroom, he was reminded of why it was important not to become distracted. He peeled off the dressing from the wound on his arm and set about cleaning the bloodied cut that had been inflicted by Gabriel's sword. Pride had prevented Christopher from doing anything but taking the injury in his stride. Besides which, Gabriel had been around long enough and done enough for the king for Christopher to even attempt demanding his punishment for his own slip up. As he redressed the fresh wound, he reminded himself it had been his own fault for losing concentration, unlike the many scars on his back which had been inflicted purely by the king's cruelty.

Once dressed for dinner, Christopher decided to take a walk through the palace grounds and ensure everything was running smoothly before it was time to join the family for their meal. The whole family around one table was often an uncomfortable and dramatic affair. Given that the eldest prince was in a terrible mood wasn't likely to help make the meal more tolerable.

****************​

Gabriel Lancaster​

The crowds had quickly left the palace grounds once the 'show' was over. Prince Christopher had wasted little time before returning to the palace too. Gabriel perched himself on the steps that lead up to the wooden gallows. As the men behind him cut down the three deceased criminals from the ropes they'd been hanged from, the Head of Security closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for the three souls. He'd been the man to let the three criminals out of their cells in the castle dungeon and then lead them to their public deaths. It never got easier and it was without a doubt one of the worst parts of his job. With it being so soon after Margaret's death, Gabriel had tried to get Robert to see reason and delay today's hangings, but the man was in no mood to listen and it had left the guard with little choice but to lead another execution. Despite the fresh corpses of the latest condemned souls being mere feet away, it was Margaret that still weighed heavy on Gabriel's mind. She was a rare light within the darkness of the palace and he'd been forced to walk the poor girl to her death.

With the removal of the deceased all in hand, Gabriel eventually excused himself from the gallows and headed back towards the palace. He reminded himself of his purpose to protect the royal family and of the goodness that always kept him motivated. He'd known all six of the royal children since they were born and he felt it was his duty to remain a good, stable figure in their lives. Even to the Dark Prince who was no doubt still irritated with him following their training that morning. Even Christoper he believed had a little good still in him, but it was locked far too deep for Gabriel to coax out and he suspected would remain that way for as long as Robert was encouraging such evil. Whilst Gabriel and Robert tended to be on friendly terms, where the guard was at times permitted to speak openly to his king, he didn't stop worrying about the queen. He remembered Arielle as a young and vibrant woman, before she married Robert. Ever since, Gabriel and Arielle had become close friends, which meant he could never leave the palace and abandon the woman he held with such high esteem. It was the very family that burdened him that also filled him with purpose and admiration. Whether he liked it or not, he was bound to the palace and was sure his only escape from it would be through death.

Gabriel took a shortcut through the hedge maze, knowing every intricacy of the labyrinth by now, and soon emerged near to the large main entrance of the extravagant palace. He then proceeded to walk the grounds to make sure everything was running smoothly and securely before he would soon stand guard outside the family's private dining hall. He also liked to remind the more free-spirited of the royal children not to be late for dinner. Robert and Christopher were both in foul moods, so he'd hate for any of the princes or princesses to feel their wrath today.

Melanin-Gxdess Ms. Sparrow Braddington @Beauty_Belle Moka-chan arryn seasonedcat TYPE Teh Frixz Hysterical ryesnatcher

OOC: Feel free to interact with either of my characters. I've intentionally left them open. I'll post Maxwell once a few of you have had chance to post, but he'll be free too.​

 

[Moka-chan]

William​

William gave a quite chuckle as one of the garden keepers finished their story, "did that really happen?" The man gave a slightly toothless grin and nodded, "aye, m'lord. Had ta shoo off the beast with me broom." He said it with a bit of pride and William was choking back laughter once again, they were speaking quietly so as not to be heard but they had a lookout just in case. Besides the man had already finished his section and when William had passed by had looked as if he would explode if he didn't tell the prince about the fox that had slept on his chest the other night. Both knew the risks, but when the man asked to speak with William he wasn't about to turn him down. Another garden keeper walked by and gave them a certain look that signaled someone was approaching and William bid the pair goodbye with a nod and smile. He wasn't sure who it would be but when Christopher came into view he felt it might have been better just to leave, he still wasn't sure how to interact with his brother. Luckily William was already dressed for dinner so he wouldn't be berated for that.

Questions burned deep in his chest and threatened to spew forth; 'was it you or father who ordered those things done to Margaret?', 'will it be one of us one day? Will it be a public execution or poison?' and finally the burning question 'do you still love us or do you merely tolerate us?' When his brother came closer he saw how tense his jaw was and the tightness in his muscles, he was in a mood and Williams first instinct was the want to help his brother relax. Sadly William was at a loss of how to do so and didn't want to earn his brothers ire, it didn't help that when Christopher was worked up he looked a great deal more like their father. When he came close enough William gave him a smile, "good afternoon brother."

Misty Gray

 

[Hysterical]

Genevieve Montjoy​

Genevieve could only sigh in contempt as she watched everyone return to their homes from the public execution. She wondered about whether or not they could all have possibly had anything better to do with their lives. In the time that it took for them to go to the execution and return, she had gotten just about halfway through the short novel she was reading. Ginny also couldn't believe that her mother and father had gone and attended the event. However, she was well aware that these outings were mere social prerequisites for her father, a place where he did some of his finest business. He was a lawyer for the Crown, and used the occasions to reel in more clients who had deep enough pockets to afford him; his services certainly weren't cheap.

Her mother and father would not be returning from the public execution just yet though, they had another meeting to attend. It was that of a suitor, one hoping to be married to the daughter of the finest lawyer in the country. Her father would accept nothing less than the best in her future mate, and unlike what happened to Georgia, he wanted her to stay in the area. She believed that the meeting today was with some Business mogul and his heir. He was most likely uptight and serious, and way too demanding. Ginny lived to please others, but she was searching for something special in marriage. She wanted love. She didn't want her life to be a business transaction for the benefit of her family, she wanted her father to choose someone that she connected with, someone who would be passionate and charming, and a good father to her children.

If it was up to them, she'd be married by the end of the year. Her eighteenth birthday was just last week. Ginny had another itch to scratch at as well; why hadn't her father taken her to court to mingle with all the other young lords and ladies? Some girls had been there since age sixteen, having been courted by eighteen and set to be married within the year. She could have found a man that she connected with there. However she also trusted in her father, as he had picked Georgia's husband as well, and she knew that Georgia was happy.

To ease her boredom waiting for their return, she sat down to write a letter to her closest friend, princess Amren. They had met back when she was younger and her father worked more closely with royal advisers and such. She spent some time at the castle in her childhood, and some time there as she grew older and closer with the princess, and had met all the royal children on a least one occasion. Genevieve believed that the last time she would have seen them all together was a ball, but she could not remember when.

Her letter went as follows:

'Dearest Princess Amren,
I write to you on a casual notice, simply to update you on the passing by of each day. I would first like to extend a warm indication of my fondness to you, and to ask you how you have been recently. It has been almost a week since we have seen one another in person last, what has changed around the palace?
As you could assume, everything around here is the same as always. Father has met with two more suitors this week, all of which he claims to be incompatible for me. He and mother are at another meeting as I write you currently, this one a business man. As I am told, he is to take over his father's business someday. Could you imagine, me being engaged to an heir? Some days I find it difficult to imagine myself engaged at all.
I always wonder why it is that I am not swept up in the court life, searching for a suitor there. That way I would be able to spend more time with you, while picking a gentleman of my own accord. I much prefer the more charismatic type, but father seems dead set on someone stoic. I do not know when he will be satisfied and simply make up his mind.
I hope this letter finds you quickly, and that we may find an occasion to meet shortly in the future.
Your friend,
~Genevieve Montjoy'

Ginny placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it with the wax press of her family crest. She inscribed her friend's name on the front of the envelope and passed it off to her family's butler, saying to him, "Please ensure this gets to Princess Amren, thank you." She knew that it would not be hand delivered by him, but that he would make sure it got to a palace messenger.

She hated being so formal with her friend, but it was what protocol demanded. Until they were in the presence of one another, all formalities had to be followed. Maybe she would be invited to the palace by Amren so that they could spend time together and simply be themselves.

Ms. Sparrow

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Amren Ravenswood

Amren snarled in the direction of the servant whom moved to her vanity, hands frozen just above a delicate ruby necklace, her intent only to place the necklace around her own neck, she knew, but it was well known that Amren only hoarded the one thing that wasn’t a book—jewelry. And god help anyone who touched Amrens jewelry. The servant girl blushed and her hands quickly moved back to her side, standing swakardly as the other servant helped Amren into her typical favored silver gown, her bare arms exposed and beads of small diamond glittering like starlight as her dress dropped smoothly to the floor, flattering her petite, small curves, despite the lack of corset, Amren usually preferring loose fitting clothing than the tight dresses ladies at court oftenly stuffed themselves in.

“You may leave.” Amren said flatly too the two servant girls as she turned and stared at herself in the mirror, both girls giving clumsy curtsies before nearly sprinting out of the room, shutting the door quietly as their hurried footsteps moved away from the door.

Amren clucked her tongue as the only hint of satisfaction she found in the mirror, the silver gown making her own silver eyes pop. Despite her delicate, and small boned, short stature Amren was the very essence of elegance and something deadly and dark. Glancing down to the rubied necklace, a silver chain strung with delicate, blood-red rubies, she picked it up, weighing the considerably heavy necklace in the palm of her hands in consideration before fastening it around her neck.

Stepping away from the mirror, Amren took in her surroundings, basking in the solitude of her own quiete chambers. Amren was an odd girl, preferring a room in an large attic room, at the top floor of the palace, where she could find the most peace to herself. The room had two slanted ceilings, making a triangle like formation, with a large, human-sized window that gazed down upon the courtyard. Though her king-sized bed was quite luxurious and large; with black silk sheets and a white feather comforter, it was a mostly plain room, with her white vanity dresser opposite of her bed, and a wardrobe on the far right of her bedroom in the corner, the rest of the room remained bare.

Now that she had extra time before her, Amren swiped her novel off the corner of her dresser and was about to leave the sanctity of her bedroom for some peace before dinner before an ill-timed knock sounded on her door just as her fingers touched the doorknob.

Irritated, Amren swung open the door instantly, startling the poor palace messenger. “Yes?” Amren breathed out, the annoyance plain in her face.

“A message for you, my lady, from-from Genevieve Monjoy.” He stammered, flinching under the intensity of her gaze.

Amren visibly relaxed at the name, eyebrows arching in curiosity, she took the letter from the boys hands, mumbling a flat word of thanks as she turned and shut the door behind her, tearing the envelope open as she sat down at her vanity.

Genevieve never failed to entertain it seemed to Amren, as she read the letter, that Genevieve would never forgo her silly dreams of a happy marrige. Taking silent to herself, Amren reaches down and opened one of her vanity drawers, pulling out her paper, ink and quill, Amren quickly set to writing her own letter:
​

Blah, Blah, Genevieve Montjoy ~
Foolish girl, you are so lucky to have a father whom deems whom is worthy of your hand. I believe the King is waiting for the first proposal of my hand so he may ship me off to another’s estate and be another throrn plucked from his side. Indeed, I do not know why you entertain the idea of a happy marrige, for love is nought but a weakness.

As for things at the palace, you could not have written at better timing. I believe Christopher will start killing off all the palace staff just for sport soon enough, for he has just tortured and executed a young servant girl who preferred Adelia’s company a few days ago. The girls were friends, and the servant girl payed the crime for it, convicted of treason. She has locked herself into her room. She will recover, but if such executions persist I believe the common people will soon rebel against us, and the King is unstable and hands far too much control to Christopher.

Tis is a tense time at the palace, girl, which is exactly why I encourage you to come to the palace at your latest convenience. You are welcome to attend and stay at the palace for as long as you see fit, for there is no shortage of rooms, and you can continue your foolish pursuit of men. Though the quickest way to a mans heart, is through his fourth and fifth ribs.

I write with haste, for dinner is upon us and I plan to entertain my father with my atheism beliefs for tonight, for he surely loves such talk, as you well know. Perhaps he shall even explode, fingers crossed.

~ Your royal pain in the ass,
Amren Ravenswood.

Statisfied with her letter, and in her typical bold, rebellious fashion of disregarding formal protocol, Amren sealed her letter into an envelope, stamping it with the royal family’s stamp to seal it shut before briskly leaving her room, descending down the many stairs leading to the dining hall.

Amren, now in a particular humored mood, which hardly meant any good for her father, made her way for the dining hall for dinner, passing through the many halls and corridors she’d become accustomed too throughout the many years she’d grown up in the monstrosity she called home.

Sighting a palace servant, Amren waved the boy over, placing the letter in his hands. “Make sure this gets into the hands of Genevieve Montjoy as soon as you can.” Amren said coolly, leveling a stare at the boy that meant ‘immediately’. She knew he would not relieved himself but hand it off to a palace messenger.

Though slightly amused, her face did not show it as she entered the dining hall, wearing a mask of pure stony, irritation, her eyes danced however, with ill-will, for it was hard to tell if Amren was better off in a bad mood than a good one, because both surely wreaked all kinds of havoc.


Hysterical
​

 

[TYPE]

♗ Titus Harbord ♗
Location: Palace Gardens
Interaction: N/A
​

He had been sitting there for a while now. Every moment felt like an eternity, as the warm, later afternoon sun made it's way across the sky. His favorite spot, hidden between the opulence that was the palace gardens. A small marble bench, set between two overlarge bushes kept pristine - curiously perfect for sitting behind, obscured in whatever pastime one might be preoccupied with. When he had first found it, he had imagined it a spot the young of the castle might frequent for a sport of late night lasciviousness. Hence him initially sitting on a handkerchief. If only as a precaution. At the moment however, he was not concerned with any of that. At the moment the book in his lap lay open, forgotten, as the nails of his thumbs cut into the thick paper, his knuckles white, and his face strained. He could feel the beast in his mind. The spectre with the voice of his father, roaring at him - in a space where sentimentality and concern were no longer relevant. In a space where civilization was to be chained and thrown to the lions, and only rage exist in its stead. They were at it again. So soon after... they were at it again! There was an unnecessarily loud thud as he shut the book, his body seeking any sort of release for the flood of adrenaline and testosterone. Every fiber of his being calling for the deaths of these monsters. His nostrils flared as he breathed in, deeply, then breathed out too fast through his nose.
Hang them! Dangling from a window with their entrails painting the floor beneath! The voice in his head seethed as he did, violent and filled with a rage that felt like mercury in his veins. They had to die. They had to die and they had to die painfully. Not just the father, but that son of his. The hand of the cruel king will meet the same fate. The same sticky end. What about the others? At the moment he felt them all culpable. Sitting around, enduring him... enabling him with their passivity. It was nauseating. They sickened him... but... he understood fear. That paralyzing agent that creeps through the soul. Undermining ones agency. Undermining ones resolve. Was it fair? No. They were already part of his plans. Some would not make it out alive. None with their personas intact. They will have to see it as penance. A form of sacrifice, towards those they have exploited with their arrogance and their silence. In imaging them as more than. They will suffer consequence. They will know it. They will feel the sting of mortality and be reminded of their fragile humanity.
Titus rolled his neck, the sound of cracks heard - loud in his ears - the stress in his shoulders reaching a peak. He just needed time. Time to think. Time to plan. If this was done wrongly, he could have a worse king instead... his own efforts fueling the persecution that comes after. No. It needed to be one, fast, efficient maneuver. With no chance of failure. Redundancies upon redundancies. Plans for plans. To be rash now, is to invite failure. He could not allow that. Logical. Reasoned. Planned. With each word like a hammer to his mind, he took a slow, measured breath. Control. Order. Focus. Their end would come. Their end will come. No gods. No churches. No armies. No treasuries. No judges. No servants. Nothing will stop this. It is the inevitable end that comes like the dawn. His patience will be rewarded.
As his thoughts grew slower and slower, he noticed how late it had become. He had no interest in eating tonight. He knew it would not stay within his stomach for long. No... he would sit here. Quietly. Hopefully alone for the remainder. Until his mask returned. Until he was Titus once more. And then he would return to them. And he would serve them. And he would learn. And in time... so will they.

 

[Braddington]

Arthur Ravenswood

Location: Palace Rooms
Interaction: arryn


​

Another execution. Another death. Another day. Every time things seemed to calm down, they accelerated once more. After the death of poor Margaret, no, the murder of poor Margaret, he had hoped things would at least return to neutrality. As always, they did not. Arthur was not there for this one, he couldn't be, not after seeing the previous execution. It made him sick to the stomach. He simply watched from his room in the palace as the procession returned, his brother at it's head. Even looking at him gave way to exaggerated sigh's. The future King, in all his glory. The realm would surely prosper under his enlightened and merciful reign. Or at least, one could dream, right? That's all he had been doing for the past few years. Dreaming instead of acting, hoping instead of doing. How could he do it anymore? There was no nuance with Margaret, she was simply innocent. And she was brutalized as an innocent. He was going to break sooner or later, and this dinner was a tempting proposal for such a scene. He would make his voice heard, and if they tried to drown him out, Christopher and his father, then he would simply shout louder. Enough was enough. Being a bystander to tyranny is not who he was.

With a somewhat determined attitude, he stopped staring out the window and looked to the servants laying out clothes for him. There was an assortment of bright colours he was used to, the red's and the blues that he would normally wear. This was a different occasion, however. He looked to the servants and shook his head "Fetch me something black, if you will. No bold colours, please." It was a statement, to be sure. Mourning clothes. A colour he would never wear otherwise. They arrived sooner rather than later with an outfit that accurately represented that statement. Putting it on, he dismissed the servants who gave there bows before pouring himself a glass of wine, drinking it in one go and heading out the door to content himself for the small time he had before he staged his favorite drama. It would most likely be dangerous, he doubted the King or his brother were in good moods. But then again, why would he care how they are feeling? No, he cared about the dead woman. Not a tyrant and his accomplices feelings. It had to be done. He had set his mind on it and there was nothing that was going to persuade him to keep quiet once more, as he had done for years.

Walking through the palace, bows and other such pleasantries coming his way, he had a single destination in mind. Adelia's room. She had not left since the execution but now she was being ordered to. He was hoping that he could be there for her, perhaps be able to help her along. Something. He just knew he had to go to her. Along the way, he forced a smile for the staff, returning their greetings as they came. Someone had to be a reassuring face for them, else no one was. As he arrived, there were two guards at the door, he looked to them both. They were probably stationed by his father, so ordering them along would no doubt be in vain, so he just knocked, gently. "Adelia? It's me, Arthur. Can I come in?" He waited for a reply, the gruff looking men not moving an inch.

 

[Misty Gray]

Christopher Ravenswood
~ Palace Garden ~​

The palace gardens were huge, yet still beautifully maintained with every detail attended to. Regardless of the size and many sculptures and shrubs that could distract him, Christopher's attentive, eagle-eyes were able to fix upon his youngest brother, William. The eldest prince stopped still on the spot, observing the garden keepers who were walking away nearby. He lowered his eyes to the sleeve of his deeply dark blue clothing, brushing aside a leave that had dared to landed upon his attire from being carried by the gentle breeze. It was normal to see Christopher in the darkest colours and he begrudges the occasions when such lighter colours are called for.

Aware that his younger brother had seen him, Christopher didn't rush to approach. Instead he continued to look around the gardens to make sure there was nothing untoward and those those gardeners were indeed just getting on with their work. His favourite gardener wasn't in sight, which was a shame as the old man's stories were always quite the distraction from his troubles. After a deep sigh, Christopher approached his brother. The younger man sent him a smile, to which Christopher simply nodded. It wasn't that he didn't want to return the smile to his little brother, but he couldn't shake the suspicion it was a forced smile to hide William's true upset with him. Most of his family were particularly angry with him since Margaret, so why would William be any different?

"Afternoon," he simply replied, feeling there was no reason to attach the word "good" to any part of this day. Christopher's eyes fixed on his brother's face for a time, before focusing down on his shoulder. Something caught the man's attention and caused him to slowly reach his black leather-gloved hand out towards William. "Don't move..." he calmly told him. After briefly touching William's shoulder, Christopher pulled his hand away to show the garden spider he's retrieved from his brother's clothing. He delicately placed small creature on a nearby shrub before looking back to William. "Father would not approve of you showing up to dinner with that thing on your shoulder," he remarked. Christopher was a perfectionist to the point of obsession, but it was a product of their father's strict need for order, which the eldest prince had learned the hard way to adhere to. "If you were planning on putting it in his soup, you'll have to be smarter than that," he remarked, with what appeared to be the slightest flash of a smirk. Was Christopher cracking a joke? Christopher at least figured something he shared with his brother was a disdain for their father's cruel ways.

"Tell me, William," he began, clasping his hands together behind his back as he changed the subject. "What have you been up to today?" he asked. It wasn't intended to sound like an accusation, but his flat tone likely made it seem so. "Has Adelia surfaced from her room yet?" he asked. His concern for their little sister was genuine, but he knew he was the last person she would want to speak with. Apparently, he was even worse than the king himself.

Moka-chan

 

[Teh Frixz]

Celia van de Tueling The Gardens
​

With the flowing grace that only measured steps could provide, Celitje van de Tueling seemed to be immune from the warmth that the September sun perpetuated. There would be no forming perspiration, no stain of exertion, just the same crisp lines of her jacket that were present in any and all situations. Even the lighting of the gardens seemed to fall differently on her, creating the illusion as if she were under the light of a surgery.

Walking with one hand at her side and the other cocked at the elbow and carrying a tray with iced water, dressed with cucumber. She would be addressing two princes shortly and wished to present them with the option of cleansing the royal palate in the late summer heat. Her intended route though would be leading her to the tutor himself first though. His location narrowed down through interrogation of groundsmen, gardeners and the probing eyes of maids who seemed to take note of members of the House subconsciously. His entrance to the gardens and lack of exit meaning he was likely in the location that she'd had to haul Olivia away from on more than one occasion. There was doubt in her mind that he knew the true intent of that location but was perhaps reveling in his disregard for the purposeful design of the spot. Were she a weaker woman she'd scoff.

Feet somehow not making a sound as she continued down the garden path, she rounded a corner and announced herself as soon as she spotted the man.

"Mr. Harbord" She gives the appropriate bow to a servant of equal nature, a polite head tilt and free hand out to the side and greets him in Russian " Добрый день (Dobryy den') my sir. Refreshment if you'd like?" Celitje never provided drink or food unless she was either directly asked to or was on errand for Olivia and needed to interact with someone specifically. This was widely known enough as that she didn't need to state that she had questions for him regarding this evenings dinner but she would not say another word until it was her turn to speak again. Instead she takes a few more steps forward and offers a drink from the etched brass tray.


TYPE

 

[Hysterical]

Genevieve Montjoy
~Montjoy Manor~​

After receiving a letter back from her friend so promptly, Genevieve was inspired to immediately begin corresponding back. The troublesome times at the palace gave her the feeling that Amren could use her company at the moment. She had remembered hearing about the execution of the young palace servant, but had neither attended the execution or questioned the reasons behind it, but she had always sensed something dark in the eldest brother, and it placed a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Before starting her letter to the princess, Ginny immediately disposed of Amren's letter in the fireplace. If anyone ever saw that the princess had been talking so lowly of the future king and it got reported, Amren could be the next to be tried for treason, and Genevieve was determined not to be the reason why.

'Princess Amren,
It makes me immaculately forlorn to hear of the circumstances of the young maid. Even though you know that I perfectly respect your atheism beliefs, I will be praying for your sister's swift recovery. I hope to maybe visit with the youngest princess on my next outing to the castle.
Speaking of which, I will most certainly be accepting your invitation for an extended visit to the palace. I was thinking somewhere in the realm of one to two weeks. It certainly sounds like you could use a friend in these gloomy days. I'll run this plan by my father when he returns.
Your opinions on love, though I also respect those, disappoint me so. Love is such a beautiful thing that so few of us get to experience in his median lifestyle, and it is something which I crave, something that I hope to not have to settle for. In the end, it all comes down to whom my father accepts and whom he doesn't. I plan to depart this evening for the palace after we have supper here.
I will see you shortly,
~Genevieve Montjoy'

For the second time today, she sealed her letter and sent it off, telling the servant that would be delivering it to make sure that it got to the princess after she finished her supper with her family. She also informed a maid to begin packing her fanciest dresses for her escapade to the palace.

Her parents entered their home shortly after the letter was sent off, and her father looked quite satisfied with the night. Genevieve had a sudden fear grip her; was she suddenly going to be engaged? Is she going to be getting married within a month, too many thoughts were swirling around her head as her parents ushered her into the dining room, supper quickly being served, and glasses of wine being poured.

Genevieve was the first to break the silence, "How was the meeting tonight, father? Did you think this one was worthy of my hand?" Her nerves were slowly crawling up the back of her throat, making it feel as though she was going to vomit.

A bellowing laugh left him, "Not in the slightest! The man owns... a candy business!! No daughter of mine will ever be married to a candy tycoon, and besides, he wants his son to open a branch of the factories and stores in France and live there, and I refuse to send you so far away, you know that."

"Yes, I do... Father, I made a decision tonight. Princess Amren has invited me to stay at the palace for an extended period of time, and I have accepted her offer. I would like to spend some at court to maybe meet some young that perhaps you... and I... would both agree upon. I don't expect you to stop with your meetings, and if you find somebody that you accept before I find somebody to present to you... I will agree to marry him. I just ask that you don't choose for the sake of getting me away from court life, but choose a man if you find attributes that both you and I would agree on... what do you say?"

He stayed silent for a long time, before finally giving his thoughts, "I don't like the thoughts of you engaging in court life in the palace, but you've already accepted her invitation without consulting me, and it is always rude to refuse royalty. I give you my blessing to spend a minimal amount of time in court, but stay alert and stay safe inside the palace. There are too many dangerous workings around there, that is why I now limit my dealings with them."

Excitement immediately budded inside of Genevieve. She was finally getting something that she asked for! It felt like a miracle, "Oh, thank you! I'm departing immediately after supper, I'm so sorry for the short notice!"

Ms. Sparrow

 

[TYPE]

♗ Titus Harbord ♗
Location: Palace Gardens
Interaction: Teh Frixz
​

He had not heard her approach, but Titus gathered himself enough, having calmed for the most part - his breathing having evened out eventually. She looked as stunning as the first time he saw her. Really, a masterclass in form and function. None of the blasé decadence so common for the age, she was refined to an almost inhuman level. Panes of black where another might have been tempted to gild with gold. Smooth, well maintained skin where another might stage rings. And this was something he could admire fully. Complexity in the value of the individual beyond that of the form. It all suggested that whatever she was, it was beyond earthly things like craft. Her value lay within. A worthy colleague.
He took a breath, setting his book to the side, and getting up. Straightening his overcoat and cravat. His shoulders squared and he rose to his full height, as he had been trained to do. An image of admirable brilliance, commanding the respect of his peers and his students alike. "Van de Tueling. You should know by now that my attentions are not to be bought by such things as flavored water and politeness." He accepted the glass nonetheless. His voice polite, calm and generally pleasant as he spoke. His tone not as commanding as when he taught, but also not as informal as when he might speak to someone like Mary. "A lesson or two however, would get you anywhere. Shall we sit?" As he offered, he sat down, picking up his book again, before turning towards her.
So, she wanted to talk. No. Needed to talk. His eyes ran over her, his mind racing for a moment before realizing that he had rather overworked his brain within the last few hours. He had no idea, and he was not getting anywhere. "What may I help you with?" He settled in, waiting for her to begin. A thought popped into his head. She had approached almost without sound. Her presence was a constant within the castle, and yet she commanded the respect of many within it. She was well connected. Well liked. She had no reason to sneak. So why? Was this perhaps not as innocent an interaction as he had first thought? Why would she wish to meet with him, while drawing no attention to herself? He felt the frown wanting to form, his mind wanting to race again, but he suppressed it, taking a sip of the water. "Please. You have my attention." He nodded for her to begin.

 

[Moka-chan]

​

William
Garden Palace
​

William forze when his brother reached over and briefly touched his shoulder before he withdrew clutching the small creature. A shiver ran up his spine at the knowledge of such a creature being on him but he tried to suppress it, he almost missed Christopher's sly joke but when he heard it and saw the sly smirk before it disappeared his grin became true. "Brother you wound me, I would never subject an innocent creature to such a fate." He felt his body and mind relax, this was the Christopher he knew and loved not the cold man he would be forced to adapt but the man who loved his family but was weighed down by the weight of the kingdom.

At the question of what he was doing William waved a hand dismissivly, "nothing scandalous, I promise. I was merely walking the grounds and admiring the flowers, the grounds keepers work hard to maintain them so it's important to look at their handiwork sometimes." He kept the fact that he spent little to no time admiring the flowers before he was swept into a story about slumbering foxes to himself. The question about Adelia caught him off guard briefly before he realized that he might be the only one Christopher could truly ask about their sister, if he asked anyone else they would either give a halfhearted answer or would see his question as a sign of weakness.

William considered how to answer before he decided with the truth, "Adelia is still in mourning, I'm worried about her at times. She eats little and still refuses to open the door to anyone but those she cares for deeply. I believe it will take time for her to heal but I pray for our dear sister to recover to her former self." He didn't say how much hatred she had for Christopher, it would accomplish nothing and William wasn't about to get his baby sister in trouble. Part of him worried about her anger and wondered if Christopher opening up to her would work, he doubted his brother would do so and while Adelia was a warm ray of sunshine in the gloomy castle he wasn't sure if she would forgive him so quickly. If William was honest he also felt the death of Margaret in his heart, he hadn't been overly close to her but she was kind and always had an interesting story to tell or at least a warm smile. Looking at the man before him William wondered once again how much had been Christopher and how much had been their father.

Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

Maxwell Tanner
~ Royal Stables & Farm ~​

Maxwell's day so far had been a mixed bag. Everything had started off so calmly that morning, with him able to attend to his farming duties since sunrise. However, As noon approached and the man was due to head to the servants' area of the palace to eat some lunch, he was unfortunately held back at the stables. Jack, a young stable boy, had alerted him to the fact Christopher's horse had escaped the stables and was roaming around the nearby fields. It had been easy to locate the pure black stallion, but much trickier to entice the beast back into the stables. After much time and patience, Maxwell managed to tame the temperamental horse and get him back to the stables before any of the royals were made aware. Maxwell had missed lunch and ended up behind on his other duties. It didn't help that the day was a hot one which only added to his exhaustion and dehydration.

"Of all the horses, it just had to be you, didn't it?" Maxwell berated Christopher's stallion. As he rambled on, the young man finished tightening the last screw to secure the latch back in place so the stable door would be more securely locked in future. "After everything I've done for you, Storm, this is how to repay me? It would have been me in trouble for this, not Jack." Maxwell finally stood up straight and let out a deep sigh before reaching out to stroke the side of the horse's neck. A soft smile grew on his face, always grateful that he was able to work with the animals and spend his days outdoors, even if the heat was too much at times.

As the afternoon drew to a close, Maxwell returned to his shack so he could get himself washed and cool down from spending most of the day beneath the blazing sun. There was still some time before the servants were permitted to have their dinner, so he took the opportunity to repair the roof of his shack while it was still light outside. He'd been meaning to do it for days and figured it was unwise to keep putting it off, never knowing when the rain showers would come. Humming a melody to himself, he set about propping the wooden ladder against the side of his small wooden home and then climbed up onto his roof. For a short time, he stood up straight, taking advantage of the height to look out across the palace grounds and take in the view of the beautiful gardens a short distance away.

[Open for interaction]

 

[Moka-chan]

Mary
In Castle hallways
​

It was hard to believe a whole week had passed since poor Margarets execution, it still felt like a fresh wound deep in her heart. Most of the servants were still on knife's edge, especially when it came to serving one of the royals. Even the gentler royals were still something to fear now, after all being caught casually talking with one could send you to the gallows. She turned another corner in the labyrinth known as the castle, when she had first started she had gotten lost to many times to count, yet know she quietly sped through the twists and turns with her mind somewhere else. Of course she was still taking utmost care not to heard as she walked and kept a close eye out for anyone she might have to greet.

She had just finished tidying up Prince William's room while the man was out in the gardens, it was hard to do so when he was in his room not because he was in the way but because he would talk and trade stories. He was the type to listen to whatever someone said with full attention and Mary never felt right to give him only half of hers when conversing. That Mary had been making sure not to be in the same place as the youngest prince for the past week. She was sure harm wouldn't come to him, but she was but a mere maid and entirely expendable. The thought of being less than nothing used to cloud Mary's eyes with tears, but now after so many years she had come to accept that reality. In the eyes of a royal what true importance did a maid have?

(open interaction)

 

[Misty Gray]

Christopher Ravenswood
~ Palace Garden ~​

Christopher raised a slightly suspicious eyebrow as William maintained he hadn't been up to anything scandalous. He unclasped his hands and brought them into view from behind his back. He took a moment to readjust the sword that rested with some weight at his side. "Well, if you had been up to something scandalous I suspect the last place to do such a thing would be out in the open. My eyes and ears are not the only ones you should feel concerned about," he lightly warned his brother. "Though you are quite right. These gardens are by far the least ghastly part of our home. I always found this to be the best place to escape to," he admitted. He'd spent many occasions as a boy hiding out in the gardens until he was found by the guards and marched back to stand before his father.

Christopher listened as William explained about Adelia and how much Margaret's death was affecting the girl. He slowly nodded his head and breathed out of his nose as he kept his lips pursed together. "That is most concerning to hear. I do care for our dear sister," he thought aloud. Catching himself, he cleared his throat and let out a deep sigh. He wasn't going to apologise for what had happened and he suspected that wouldn't help him to reconcile with his sister. The fact was, he had no choice in the matter and he had no choice but to take the blame from those around him, lest they think he's merely his father's puppet. After the torture he'd played no part in, he was left to face the broken maid and decide her fate. In his opinion, her death was a mercy for all and a lesson to be learned. He'd learned his lesson when Catherine was executed. He'd loved her and she'd done nothing wrong at all, other than be born of the "wrong" nationality and thus go against the plans Robert had for his heir. Christopher's heart was ripped up and thrown away the day she was killed.

Christopher straightened his posture and looked William in the eyes. "Adelia will just have to learn she can't always get what she wants, won't she?" he flatly remarked. "Other than completing the jobs they are here to do, the servants are of no importance to our lives and are of little relevance to the kingdom. It's a lesson you should take on board too and save yourself the pain later down the line."


Moka-chan

 

[Moka-chan]

​

William
Palace Gardens
​

William couldn't help but grin at his brothers warning, "I know you may think me a fool brother, but I have my smarter moments." At the gentler tone Christopher held when talking about the gardens William remembered a time that William had chosen to hide in the gardens instead of studying and had found Christopher there. The details after seeing the other boy grow blurry from time but William does recall the scent of freshly bloomed roses and recalls basking in he warmth with his older brother. Part of him wonders if Christopher remembers that time, and if so was it tinged with fondness or irritation. However the memory only caused a tightness in his chest when considering how distant they were now, he can't imagine hiding away with Christopher now whispering to each other while hiding in blooms.

At Christopher revealing his concern for their sister William felt a rush of hope, the siblings might never be able to go back to the happier days but maybe there was hope that they could all become close again. At the pointed warning and statement that servants were nothing to them William felt suspicion rise, to many rumors about the former servant Catherine and his brother made William question the validity in the statement. William knew a great deal of the servants, he had seen them laugh till they ran out of breath and mourn over lost loved ones. He saw no difference between a common servant and someone with the highest nobility, the only thing that condemned both of them was a supposed class that was made and enforced by those in a higher class. Instead of saying anything of the sort William nodded, "I understand what your saying, brother." William gave the eldest prince a smile that he hoped conveyed his feelings to his brother, "we still have a moment before dinner. What would you like to discuss? It's been a while since we talked just the two of us."
Misty Gray

 

[seasonedcat]

Amalia hummed to herself lightly as began to finish bathing. The small lavatory was filled with the steam of her bath as she cleaned herself. After a few more minuets of sitting in the peaceful heaven she rose and covered herself with the dark green, silk robe that the maid had graciously put out for her after she set her the bath. From there she took her seat in front of the fogged mirror and began brushing her hair.

As she undid the tangles in her hair with the silver comb her mind drifted. Her chest couldn't help but contract in pain as her mind wondered. She was going to be the next queen of this kingdom. This lavatory she sat in was unfamiliar compared to the one back at her house. The people here confused her greatly. Was she the right choice to marry Christopher? He seemed to harbor such ill feelings towards her. She knew it was a forced engagement, but he had barely tried to get to know her. It hurt. So many thoughts were flying through her head and it hurt.

Amalia finished brushing her hair and applying her makeup for the evenings meal, now she was to get dressed. Exiting the steamy bathing room, Amalia entered the chill aired room that was her sleeping quarters. Upon her bed lay a simple evening dress that was the colour of the sky. Removing her robe she slipped into the dress with ease. She decided on simple pearl earrings for her only jewelry tonight, then put on a simple pair of black flats for shoes.

After finishing dressing, Amalia began going in the direction she assumed was the dinning room. She still didn't really know her way around the palace and she didn't want to embarrasses herself by asking one of the siblings for help. This lead to her stranded in the castle, unsure as to where she was or how to get out of there. She noticed a maid inside a room to her left. "E-excuse me miss... It seems that I find myself lost. Sorry to disturb you but may you show me the way to the dinning room?"
Moka-chan

 

[Moka-chan]

Mary
Castle halls​

Mary heard soft footsteps approach and when she turned around and saw who it was, she dropped into a curtsy. "Of course my lady, please follow me." She felt her heart thrum in being so close to the Prince's fiancé, she had heard that the woman was almost the opposite of the man in every way. As she began leading the way through the labyrinth the fear was replaced with something akin to pity, the woman seemed nice and hadn't ordered her. Mary had heard the prince ignored her, though Mary felt that was for the best when considering who they were talking about. Mary realized that Amelia must feel like an outsider almost completely alone in a terrifying setting, not knowing the dangers that lurked nearby.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my lady, but how do you fare?" She made she to enunciate each word properly, lest she upset the woman. Yet the way Amelia seemed to have drawn up on herself Mary felt that she wasn't the type to lash out in anger. In fact she reminded Mary a bit of when she herself had come to the castle, everything was to big and complicated and it was made worse by not having someone on your side. She knew that some of the siblings had taken her under their wing but still she began to worry, this was a dangerous place to be alone in .
seasonedcat

 

[arryn]

Adelia Ravenswood​

Adelia gazed solemnly into the painted eyes of St. Mary Magdalene. They revealed a window into a woman‘s soul filled with intense anguish and longing. She lifted a finger, and ran it down the side of the saint’s face, brushing over the small grooves and ridges of the hardened paint. Her hand grazed the inkwell sitting on the small table beside her, and she slowly lifted it to the top of the canvas, all the while not breaking eye contact with the sorrowful woman. She took a deep breath, examining the work she had spent a week completing, and slowly tipped the small jar, letting the smooth, black ink streak the portrait. She exhaled deeply as the dark liquid blanketed Mary’s face. The ink worked its way into the fibers of the canvas, and webbed out in different directions like a river. The pigment dripped from the bottom of the artwork and onto the floor, splattering out into a beautiful pattern that quickly stained wooden panels beneath her.

Adelia stood, the padded stool beneath her sliding backwards as she did so. She inhaled deeply and held it in as she watched the ink spread all over the canvas. She turned around to study the red gown hanging from the front of her wardrobe. She raised a finger to her lips and bit down on it contemplatively. She approached the dress and ran her fingers along the laced sleeves. She knew her actions at tonight’s dinner would make a statement, but it was one she had thought for a long while about.

Red. The color of martyrdom. The color of the blood that stained the ground. The color that filled her mind, day in and day out. The color that she couldn’t shake from her every waking thought. The color she would force into the calloused minds of her father and brother. She couldn’t let them forget it. Or forget her. The world mustn't forget dear Margaret. They mustn't forget the vision seared into Adelia’s mind of Margaret’s eyes losing their flame forever.

She dressed herself in the gown, and slipped into a pair of heels. She stared at herself in the mirror and saw a fire light behind her eyes as she hung a pair of golden earrings from her ears. Adelia was placing the last piece of jewelry onto her head, a simple golden headpiece, as she heard a knock and a voice at the door. It was her brother Arthur. She wasn’t expecting a guest, and was slightly thrown off guard, but responded nevertheless.

“Hello, Arthur. Yes, you may come in.” she said in a strong, low tone. It was the first guest she had allowed into her room since the death of Margaret. She positioned herself by the door and waited for the handle to turn, preparing herself for whatever was to come from her brother.

Braddington

 

[Teh Frixz]

Celitje TYPE
​

In her youth, Celitje recalled hearing tales of the natives in the colonies who tamed serpents that stung like adders yet with assured death. Apparently they moved like lightening and often without warning. The only way they were able to handle the beasts through steeled nerves and by watching for tell tale movements of the musculature.

If they were to ever come here, even those well versed in their art of serpent taming would have their hands full with Titus. He held such power, a venom that came from a well recited verse or a dangerous set of words that could poison even the most stalwart would fall prey to. His movements reflected this inner strength, Celitje watching with wide eyes as he already processed her purpose here. If she wasn't focused on the nature of her interaction with him, it would have been a joy to interpret his motions.

She balances the tray perfectly as the weight shifted from the removal of the offered glass. "It is my pleasure Sir, I live to serve" She steps back and waits for his throat to clear from the sip as not to offend him by speaking when he could not respond. Once he was ready, she began.

"Good sir, I wish to inquire on behalf of my Lady in regards to your presence tonight at dinner. She was unsure if you'd be dining in your quarters or at the table. This will impact our choice of gown for this evening." She spoke with the shared ability of most serving staff, somehow her clearly spoken words were hushed and vanished into the ether after few inches after reaching his ear. This was for good reason, her words, though they may be from the princess, could have been construed in a way that could be seen as offensive to the King or Prince. The servant should automatically know that the entire family would be present and there would be no dissenters. She carries on though as if unaware of this fact, no change in vocal cadence or composure.

"I would also like to add, sir, that I have thought over your inquiry into lessons and I have decided if they do not interfere with my duties in service to my Lady, I would gladly offer them at no fiscal cost but not without favor offered in return." Celitje ends her statement with the barest hint of a smirk, an expression she'd offer to equivalent level servants and to none other. A sign of respect and about as casual she would be willing to get on duty.

 

[TYPE]

♗ Titus Harbord ♗
Location: Palace Gardens
Interaction: Teh Frixz
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

As her eyes widened at him, her mind obviously running as his did, he again seemed to recall who she was. He was being sloppy. He was being careless. Something about her made him flit around in his own mind, forgetting who she was. It was distracting to say the least. He found her too interesting. Too compelling. It was throwing him off. Prompting him into forgetting how to interact with her. The moment her form adapted to the absent glass, his eyes moved from her, to the plate, to the glasses, to his own glass. Shit. She was a toxicologist.
Even as the thought ran through his head, the water starting to move down his throat, he sat up quickly, tilting his head forward in the movement, breathing out into his closed mouth, moving the water to the side of his cheek. He then told her to go ahead, hoping that it conveyed that he had drunk it. In taking another 'sip' - he let the water flow back into the glass. It would not stop whatever it could have been... but it would slow it down. If there was anything to begin with. He needed to be more careful. The entire moment, which passed in his mind in what felt like an entire minute, only really took a second. During which, at least externally, nothing obvious seemed amiss. When she smirked at him, it only proved that he needed to focus. He offered her one in return, pretending to take another sip.
"I was not aware our presence was required? Tis not a family affair? I imagine the family would love some alone time, their complex and stately lives so on display, all the time. Praise and judgment from all manner of folk. It must be nice... being allowed some secrets. If only among themselves." Another pretend sip. "As for the classes? I am delighted. Since you know my schedule far better than I know yours, I will let you learn which times would suit us both, and arrange accordingly." Another smirk. "I am often up all hours of the night, so... you would hardly be able to inconvenience me." A deep breath, as he looked away from her and over the garden. "As for payment... I expected nothing less. It would be so very disappointing to learn you would ask for money, when a perfectly good favor was up for grabs. I think we both are far too creative to let such mundane things fly without severe ridicule." He allowed a soft chuckle, as his eyes moved back towards her. "Shall we discuss terms now? Or later?"

 

[Misty Gray]

Christopher Ravenswood
~ Palace Gardens ~​

Christopher furrowed his eyebrows as William told him he understood about the servants. The eldest prince wasn't sure he was buying his brother's assurance and he didn't even attempt to hide his scepticism from his face. "Yet you still insist on thinking of them as something resembling friends?" he rhetorically questioned.

The heir to the throne gave a single nod as his brother suggested they filled their remaining time before dinner discussing a topic of his choice. "Let us slowly make our way back towards the palace," he suggested and set off in a slow, controlled pace. "I'm unable to let the subject of the servants come to an end just yet, brother. It is of great importance that you maintain a distance from them. Whilst I wholly encourage us to keep our ears constantly open, I also advise you hold back your own tongue around anyone who is not direct family. Which means no gossiping with the servants," he knowingly advised. "Whilst Margaret might appreciate the company, I really do not have the patience for more tedious executions," he remarked. "Are we clear, William?"

Christopher let out a breath before making the decision to move onto another matter. "One thing you and I can agree on is that we have the best interests of our sister at heart and with that in mind, I need you to assist me during the ball," he informed him. In a couple of days, the palace would be holding one of its typically extravagant balls to celebrate the wedding anniversary of the King and Queen. Christopher hated anything resembling a party and the chore of having to maintain a friendly, welcoming presence to all. People trying to win favour, showering the royals with false praise and adoration. The whole thing was usually a mass of actors trying to climb social and political ladders. Thankfully, Christopher was by now experienced in the art of putting on a show. "I need you to be an extra pair of eyes for me. Watch over our sisters - Amren included - and make sure none of our male guests overstep their boundaries."


Moka-chan

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Queen Arielle Ravenswood

Arielle hadn't attended the execution, finding it to be quite distasteful. People standing around to watch people die, whether they were guilty or innocent. Either way, it was not something she herself found amusing or interesting. Instead, she would stay indoors for a while and work on the floral arrangements for dinner. To keep up with the morbid mood, there would be dark red roses she grew herself scattered about the table. If they thought they were going to get something light and bright they were wrong. When Arielle made her floral arrangements she never did the same one twice and she would make them according to how the day was feeling. Since there were just deaths, that is what the arrangements would be. It took her a good amount of time, trying to decide if she wanted to just stay with the roses are not. In the end, it was just your typical spread of roses; bland and bleak just as the day had been. Once she did finish, she ventured out to the gardens, never liking to stay indoors for too long.

Once outside, she noticed how quiet it was, meaning everyone was still bothering with that execution. With a soft sigh, she sent a servant off to retrieve her bow and arrow, wanting to brush up a bit. Another one of her pastimes she missed while being in a cloud of disarray. Once she started, she was off by a lot and received encouragement from her staff. She secretly rolled her eyes, wishing either Stephen or Gabriel were around; they'd tell her the truth about how horrible she was thus far. A few quivers later and she was getting the hang of it all again, getting closer to the bullseye than the outer circle. Once she started striking the inner circle, she ordered the staff to change her target; a podium with an apple on top and a flame added to her arrow. The look on her face was concentrated as she let go of her string and the apple was engulfed in flames. It hit the ground and the maids scrambled to put out the fire, not really expecting her to make the shot. It was a nice way to kill time until she saw people returning, her children included. She just silently observed them all as they went their seperate ways. While they did what they pleased, she just hoped they wouldn't be late to dinner.

Up in her room, she had a bath prepared to wash away the smell of the outdoors. While she loved being out there she didn't care for the smell it brought. A lot was going through her mind at this time; weddings, her children, her marriage, her life. How had it all been so terrifically horrible? Joyous yet at the same time something she wished she could have avoided and gotten away from? However, if that were the case, she wouldn't have the wonderous children that she watched grow into their own people. This made her think about their upbringing, specifically Christopher's. She still beats herself, she probably forever will about not being there for him. All she could do now was try. Once her bath water was significantly colder, she got out and proceeded to get dressed for the evening. She wanted to beat her family there and check on dinner when she saw Gabriel. She gave him a smile and placed her hands on her hips. "Guarding an empty room now? Is this what we do with our time?"​

Gabriel ( Misty Gray )

(will post Stephen later)

 

[Moka-chan]

William
Castle gardens
​

William felt his blood begin to grow hot, not just at being scolded like a child but the flippant way Christopher talked about executions. William generally disliked being angry, he felt it made him to much like his father but he was suddenly struggling to keep it down. “I understand how you feel about the staff, but I am begging you not to say that in front of Adelia. In fact if you really loved her then you would keep the name Margaret away from your tongue at all times.” He tried not to let the bite in his words, after all he did still love his brother. Yet still the next words came out of his mouth like bile rushing out, “and do not worry, I would rather die then let harm come to our sisters when there is anything I can do to prevent it.”

Once the words were out William wished desperately to take them back, it was cruel to go low like that and immature of him to become so ruffled just because of a scolding. After walking a bit he started again, “I mean to say I will keep an eye out for them, and I’ll use the other one to make sure your fiancé is alright as well.” He had seen poor Amelia around and tried to make her as comfortable in the palace as he could, though he knew she felt she had wronged Christopher in some way.
Misty Gray

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Amren Ravenswood

She paused outside the opening to the dining hall as her mother’s voice carried out through the room, addressing Gabriel. Decidedly not wanting any awkward interaction with the Queen until dinner, she went right instead, her footsteps clacking with her black heels against the marble and echoing in the silence as she strode away from the dining hall.

She didn’t know where she was going, only that she wanted to get away from that room. Away from what would be another suffocating dinner, another dinner where she remembered things were once different. The halls were quiet, except for the scurrying servant, or the guards that not-so-subtly eyed her as she walked past, a quiet storm in her gaze.

She hadn’t realized she’d wandered so far into the east wing until she found herself sighting a dead end, the hall spare will guards, for there was little to guard in such a vacant wing that nobody used for the most part. Amren had realized where she unconsciously taken herself, but did not stop as she turned left into an empty guest bedroom. She didn’t bother to close th door behind her, hardly anyone ventured down these halls anyway.

The bedroom were walls lined with a white patterned-baby-blue wallpaper, the sheets white and pristine, made for whomever would sleep in this next, though she pitied whoever did. Opposite of the bed was a dark, wooden, walk in closet, large enough to fit in only two to three people. It was exactly how she had dreamed of it in her nightmares. Every detail.

Still this room carried a heavy air. It always would, she realized, as she glanced towards the closet. She had last been in this room when she was eighteen, and before that, when she was a little girl.

Amren hadn’t realized how fast her heart was beating until she stood in front of the closet, her hand on the small golden knob of the door, as if some monster would pop out. She hesitated at the door.

Stupid girl, she reprimanded herself, nothing was in the closet. No one had been in the closet since she was eighteen she was sure. Amren ripped open the closet, the door folding in with a loud slam.

The walls were white but she could still see the blood. The faint pink-red she’d smeared on the walls when she tried to clean it. But it had dried, and it was far much harder to clean blood when it had dried. The claw marks would never fade either. Not claw—nail marks. She couldn’t remember which nail marks were when. Even still, in that barren, silent room, she could hear the screams. Feel them. She didn’t know how long she stood there. How many minutes passed was unaware to her, for all she could do was stare...and stare.

It was the movement outside that broke her out of her attention, a faint, distant trace through the silk curtains that blocked the glass pane balcony doors to her right. She felt hollow, and numb. As if the world had flipped out from under her all over again, the memories bringing up only numbness, as if her stomach had been emptied out. And her cold, angry heart with it.

She hadn’t allowed herself to feel sadness in years, and other emotions she did her best to keep at bay. Only anger was allowed. Both were a weakness but at least anger kept people away. In her family, she could not afford to be weak.

Amren closed the closet door quietly with a faint trunk as the closet door came into contact with the wall, before striding over to the balcony doors, pushing aside the sheen white curtains before she opened the balcony doors and stepped out into the sunlight, the fresh air a welcome relief to her stifled lungs.

It was a small, white balcony that overlooked the castle gardens. Amren walked to the end of the balcony, leaning over the smooth white rail to peer at the movement that caught her attention and was remotely surprised to find Christopher and William walking together, heading back for the palace.

Amren watched them, taking note of William’s slightly angry expression and Christopher’s “not-so-subtle” scolding expression, as she had named it, and wondered what they were discussing. Warmth replaced a bit of the hollowness in her chest. They were a complicated bunch. A bunch of foolish girls and boys born into far too much power, but still her family nonetheless, and she cared for them, as much as she hated admitting it, she loved every bit of them.

Tearing her typical stony, fierce expression from the pair, Amren took one last lungful of fresh air in, taking in the scenery of the garden in one last glance before she turned and walked back into the guest bedroom, closing the balcony doors and whisking the curtains closed before she left the bedroom and made her way for the dining hall, dreading another eventful evening with her family.

~~Open for interaction~~​