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

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Wlilliam
William couldn't help but take a long sip at the atmosphere already choking the air, he felt the air change when Mary lead Amalia into the dining room. He locked eyes with Mary and while no words were spoken when she gave a imperviable nod they both understood. Smiling gently at Amalia he nodded, "I'm quite alright, and I hope your doing well and that the palace has been treating you well." Though if the way Mary had entered with her he hoped it meant that they would become friends, both could use a good friend and it would be good for Amalia to be taken under the wing of someone who knew the ends and outs of the palace. He tried to smother a smile at how she stuttered over Christopher's name, how Christopher didn't see how eager she was to know him escaped him. Or perhaps Christopher was just ignoring it in hopes she would change interest. He gave a smile to Olivia when she entered in all her splendor, he hoped she would help in deconstructing any fights that might spring up. A screaming match between siblings would only do so much to change minds. When Amren entered he gave her a smile as well, though he doubted she was paying him any mind at the moment based off of her cool tone towards their parents. "Good evening Amren."

When Arthur entered William saw how he looked at their brother and felt his stomach drop a little, however when a hand ruffled his hair he couldn't help but give an indignant squawk. Any levity the action provided his heart was forgotten when Adalia entered the room and guilt filled him. The striking red dress made a statement no one could twist away from and her piercing gaze when observing Christopher put a weight on his chest. He should have tried harder to talk to this past week, but he had been a coward to caught up in his own mind to truly attend his sister. The same sister he had sworn to protect, when her eyes grew distant he had no doubt who she was thinking about. Emotions swarmed like locus in his heart and mind, but the one emotion that shown through was guilt for being such a poor brother.
Misty Gray Misty Gray TYPE TYPE Braddington Braddington arryn arryn Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess apolla apolla
 
Christopher Ravenswood
~ Royal Family's Dining Hall ~

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Christopher watched as his siblings and other dinner guess entered the room. He didn't need his intelligence to know most of them were not happy to see him. Still, he wasn't the most unpopular person in the room, as his siblings greeted Robert in an even colder manner. Perhaps they had more brain cells and intuition than he gave them credit for.

As he glanced down to blood-coloured floral arrangement, he heard Amalia greeting William and sensed her presence next to him. When she stuttered over his name, Christopher contorted his lips and tapped his fingertips on his glass for a moment. He let out a sigh before turning to his fiancee who had just taken her seat next to him. "I hope my family has ensured your day has been suitably pleasant. My day has been much less so," he remarked. He then focused back on the silverware he was cleaning to his own high standards. He never agreed to the engagement and he wasn't about to let Amalia form any attachment to him. He was sure there were ways to put an end to the arrangement - his favourite being his father suddenly dropping dead which would then allow Christopher to terminate the engagement. Free himself and Amalia from a tedious future together.

When Olivia questioned if the cutlery he was polishing was dirty, he opened his mouth ready to answer, but paused when Amren also spoke up in an amused manner. "I've seen worse," he admitted. "It's a shame the servants here don't take more pride in their work and spend less time socialising." He raised the dinner knife and admired his handiwork as the silver reflected his eyes without a smudge in sight.

As more people joined the table, Christopher caught the look Arthur sent him, causing him to stare his younger brother down in return. Obviously it was all because of the dead maid and clearly Arthur was indulging their little sister with sympathy. Allowing her to continue to dwell on the whole affair. When Arthur finally sat down, Christopher leaned forward, looking passed Amalia so he could look to his brother again. "Have you been taking inspiration from my wardrobe, brother? Black looks good on you," he remarked, sending his brother a smirk. Christopher sat up straight again and took a small drink of wine. "Perhaps the perfect prince has a dark side too," he teased.

Christopher momentarily glanced to Feyre as she stood against the wall opposite him. She seemed to be struggling to maintain focus or was trying not to look like she was paying attention. Still, he didn't wish to address her apparent awkwardness, but had made of mental note of it.

seasonedcat seasonedcat (Amalia) Braddington Braddington (Arthur) apolla apolla (Olivia) Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow (Amren)
Mentions Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow (Feyre)
 
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Amren Ravenswood

Amren swirled the wine in her glass, pressing her red lips together as Christopher made his observations of the silverware and the servants who cleaned the dishes. Amren’s features easily switched to mild annoyance. “Careful, brother,” Amren said coolly, her tone laced with her usual grumpy irritation, “You sound like a yewling kitten that’s been served the wrong milk.” She stated, a slight teasing edge to her cool, flat tone.

Amren took another sip of her wine and turned her attention to Arthur, whom Christopher had teased moments prior and gave him a silver, piercing stare that scolded all by itself. He was doing more harm than good by wearing such a painfully obvious show of support for her youngest sibling at this point. His wearing black was a statement.

Her gaze wandered to an awkward looking Amalia. Girls like her would have to be careful in this family, this palace. Too awkward. Too innocent. She’d be crushed if she didn’t grow a backbone. Learn how to play the game.

Amren fixed her silver gaze on Amalia, softening it a touch. “A bold color, girl,” her tone was cool, but a touch gentler than usual, “make sure you don’t trip on it, it is a hazardous dress.” She said casually as her gaze went back to her wine. To most, it was just a warning to the length of the dress. But she knew some would understand the message. Knew Amalia would. Be careful of the game you play around here.

She sipped the glass of wine down, waving her hand for Feyre to refill it.

~~
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Feyre Odis

Feyre did so quickly in pouring the wine, but this time could not tear her ice-blue gaze from the people at the table, her features were eased into neutrality, but her gaze held pity as her eyes briefly landed on Amalia, then, of all things, curiosity, as for the slimmest of seconds, her eyes looked to Christopher before she finished pouring Amren’s wine and stepped back against the wall to watch once more.

Pity for Amalia’s lost friend.

And curiosity for the man she didn’t understand. And Feyre wondered if it’d be easier to kill him if she did...or harder.

Feyre had heard Amren’s message to her sister as well. She too wondered if she too, now walked a very similar, thin line in the dangerous game she played.

She had noticed Christopher’s momentarily glance, and did not know what to think of it. Knew that every time she spent in his eyesight was another second she could be caught. Truthfully, Feyre did not know what to think of him other than he was not all that people saw him to be. Could not be.

How could she kill a man that was not evil? Killing was against everything her father stood for—but if he was, she would be removing a plight from this world.

Feyre bit her lip, tearing her eyes from the dining table and it’s participants. She did not understand. Did not understand how she could want to kill a man, and somehow care and wonder for the man who she did not know or understand.

And Feyre found herself wishing killing a man was far more easier.

Misty Gray Misty Gray Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Braddington Braddington apolla apolla seasonedcat seasonedcat TYPE TYPE Moka-chan Moka-chan
arryn arryn
 
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Queen Arielle Ravenswood

As her children entered the room, she could feel the air grow heavier and heavier. It wasn't until Amren stepped foot in that it became almost unbearable. Arielle's relationship was not getting any better and seemed to be stuck at the point it was at. As long as it didn't get worse, she would be able to work with it. Her eyes cast over to Christopher next, seated across from her as she offered a gentle smile. His small squeeze on her shoulder made her feel better about the situation with her daughter. If she could fix things with Christopher, Amren shouldn't be that much harder.

As the last of her children trickled in, the food was brought out and Arielle was content. It wasn't until the food was unveiled that she realized she hadn't eaten a thing all day. But, a Queen must never show how hungry she was and scarf it all down. She looked around the table at her children to make sure they didn't scarf it all down and that they were being mannerable. Everything seemed good so far, but she knew that it was almost too good to be true. Hearing comments from both Christopher and Amren made her sternly clear her throat. "That will be enough. From all of you, at this table. It's enough that the day was gloomy I'd really appreciate it if the night wasn't." When she was finished, she looked to Amren and harshly whispered, so the two of them were the only ones who heard. "Amalia is going to be your sister-in-law and most importantly your Queen one day. She deserves the same respect she gives to you." She gently raised her glass to her lips and took a sip. After she set it on the table, she gave everyone at the table a faint smile. "So Amalia. Are you growing accustomed to everything here? I know it takes a while, but you'll get it eventually; I did."

Arielle was trying to make the girl feel at ease, knowing how harsh some of her children could be. Amalia reminded her a lot of herself when she was first arranged to be married to Robert. This is why she wanted to help the poor girl in any way she could, meaning reminding her children of their places. It was a harsh lesson and most definitely wouldn't help with her relationship with some of them, but that was the way it was going to have to be. Eventually she'd have to teach Amalia to defend herself, but for now, she'd ease them into it.

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Stephen Crowley

Stephen picked up on Christopher's look and gave a silent chuckle, shaking his head. He managed to sort of slump down in his seat to make himself more comfortable. Across from him sat Gabriel, one his drinking buddies and another friend of his. He was very grateful to be away from where most of the action would definitely occur and felt bad for Christopher. If he were able to switch spots, he definitely wouldn't. To his left, there was an empty seat and he started to wonder who was supposed to sit there. He turned his attention to Garbiel, but before he could get anything out of his mouth, he heard the tense conversations at the other end of the table. He managed to pick up on the sarcastic nature of the tone of voices and just knew it wasn't anything good. Immediately his hand reached for his cup and he drowned the contents into his mouth before asking for another. "Oh, this is going to be a long dinner, my friend." He said to Gabriel.

Christopher, Gabriel ( Misty Gray Misty Gray ) Amren ( Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow ) Amalia ( seasonedcat seasonedcat )
 
Amalia's face turned the shade of crimson as words were spoken from Christopher's mouth. It was as if she was a school girl all over again who had a crush on the dashing boy who sat next to her in class. Not that she knew what that was like however, she was taught by a private tutor her whole life, but she has read a 'few' romance novels. He made her heart speed up so very fast, this had to be only nervousness. (or love OwO)

The mere fact he was speaking to her filled her with such unimaginable joy that it was embarrassing. She should have some decency to not be falling over a boy who she had barely talked to just because he greeted her, her father taught her better. But.. he was her soon to be husband, so maybe it was ok...

Amalia didn't even process the next words from Christopher's mouth until after he had spoken to someone else. She tried to gain the courage to ask what had been so terrible about his day(even if she was very much aware of the executions that took place earlier), but she just couldn't seem to get the courage to do so. She dishearteningly took a sip of water from her glass, she was not much of a wine person. Why couldn't she just speak to Christopher, they were to be together for their whole lives.

Amalia then nearly coughed on her water when she realized she hadn't responded to William after he had spoken to her. Whenever she got nervous, all her teaching about proper educate went out the window. Goodness, she was pathetic. But she couldn't just pick up off of where the conversation had ended, that would just be random and uncalled for, other people were speaking now. Amalia began to silently freak out, water cup still to her lips on her bright red face.

She was knocked out of her mid panic by a cold voice. Her mouth attempted to form words to reply to Armen as she lowered the glass from her lips a bit, but she just couldn't. Her chest was very tight and she was going to faint if someone didn't intervene and save her from this. She didn't mean to wear a bad colour of a dress, she didn't mean to be bold. Oh goodness, now everyone hates her and is going to ignore her like Christopher. But wait Christopher just spoke to her, what does this mean? OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH-

Suddenly a voice cut through her thoughts causing the glass in her hand to slip out as she jumped, shattering on the floor. She let out a little 'eep' at the shattering sound. "Oh n-no! I am soooo very sorry your majesty- I um-" her face was so very red and tears were in her eyes behind her glasses. She felt as if she was going to hurl right onto the floor any second. She was such an embarrassment to her family and her new family. Was it even ok to call the queen you Majesty? Does she call her mom?!??! Why couldn't she get things right?!

Her world was spinning oh god, everyone was looking at her. She couldn't breathe. What was she to do?!
Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Misty Gray Misty Gray Moka-chan Moka-chan Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow apolla apolla Braddington Braddington arryn arryn TYPE TYPE Teh Frixz Teh Frixz
 
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Amren Ravenswood

Amren sipped her wine apathetically as Amalia seemingly struggled to form a proper sentence. Her mother cut in, lecturing both her and Christopher for their comments, that in her minds eye, were quite harmless.

Though the warning...Amren sighed internally. She hadn’t meant to warn Amalia from her. She wasn’t threatening the girl, personally Amren had little care for her brother’s fiancée, other than knowing someone like her did not belong here. She was far too naive and awkward. She’d meant to warn Amalia of the palace itself, that court was far more dangerous than she knew.

Amalia would be the future queen someday, if Christopher didn’t fond some way to be rid of her. The nobles would soon be clamboring to get under skin and try and manipulate her.

Though she didn’t blame them for thinking she was in fact threatening Amalia. Amren’s bite was usually just as harsh as her bark, and she didn’t exactly carry a reputation for not being intimidating and scary to most people.

A flicker of anger passed Amren’s sharp features as her mother quietly scolded her in a manner so nobody would hear them. “Too bad you waited until now to start sticking up for people.” She said lashed sharply in response, a hint of anger in her silver gaze, though her tone still carried the same hushed tone as her mother so nobody would hear them.

Amren sipped her wine, turning her attention back to the table as her mother addressed Amalia politely, which turned poorly as it scared the girl into dropping her glass, the sound of shattering glance filling the room. Amren flinched at the sound, something dark and haunted briefly passing her sharp features before she eased her features into smugness, reminding herself of where she was.

She may have felt bad for Amalia if she didn’t feel the surge of smugness to the accident her mother caused. Amren turned her smug gaze to her mother, “I wasn’t aware scaring the girl was a show of respect.” Amren said dryly, though the sharpness in her voice was clear, before she turned her attention back to the table, downing her third glass of wine, sighing wearily at the sight of a petrified looking Amalia, before flicking her gaze to the pale servant with the white-blonde hair, whom had set down the bottle of wine on the table and rushed to clean up the mess. Taking advantage of the abandoned bottle, Amren poured herself of fourth glass of wine.

~~
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Feyre Odis

Feyre’s gaze widened in alarm at Christopher’s fiancée, who she thought was choking quieter honestly, until she found her words after the eldests princesses threat. Or warning. She was still trying to determine whom it was indicated for.

Some part of her didn’t think the union was right on a number of reasons. The girl was too...innocent. Or naive. Perhaps both but for the future Queen of the country she certainly didn’t seem fit to rule. Why would her family marry her here? It was clear she wasn’t ready for this. It just seemed cruel.

Or perhaps it was because she thought the girl was not ready for a union with one such as Christopher.

Feyre shoved the thought away. It wasn’t her business anyway. She was here to kill the eldest prince and the King, not contemplate politics.

The shattering of glass snapped Feyre from her deep thoughts, her lips parting in suprise at the scene before her. Amalia looked like she was ready to burst into tears. Or scream. Or both. Blushing the shade of a tomato, she stammered out an apology, and her heart went out to the girl that didn’t belong in this family. Feyre was tempted to throw the bottle of wine she held at the wall just to tear everyone’s attention from Amalia. But that would do nothing but earn a scolding, lashing, or her death, or a worse scenario she couldn’t picture.

The servant behind Amalia on the far wall opposite of Feyre moved to clean up the mess but Feyre shook her head, signaling her away. She needed a distraction anyway, just to clear her awfully busy mind tonight.

Feyre moved quickly, setting the wine down on the table, next to Amren, and moving around the table to where Amalia was.

Feyre layed her hand on Amalia’s gently for a brief second, before kneeling to pick up the broken glass, though it was so brief it was almost as if she didn’t touch Amalia at all, not wanting to draw attention to herself, or scare Amalia somehow, but to offer her some peace of mind that it was okay.

Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Misty Gray Misty Gray Moka-chan Moka-chan Braddington Braddington arryn arryn TYPE TYPE Teh Frixz Teh Frixz seasonedcat seasonedcat
 
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Christopher Ravenswood
~ Royal Family's Dining Hall ~

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Christopher watched on as his mother spoke to Amren, apparently commanding the princess respect Amalia. He wished his mother wouldn't encourage such an arrangement, knowing she of all people knew what it was like to be in Amalia's position. Surely being married to Robert was enough to make anyone lecture others to stay away from marriage. Of course, he figured Arielle was too afraid to speak against the king's decision. The prince rolled his eyes when his mother asked Amalia how she was getting used to the palace. He was about to make a comment that his fiancee wouldn't be around the place long enough to get used to it, but he was instead cut off when the young woman in question dropped her glass on the floor.

Christopher rushed to stand, looking down at the broken glass as Amalia's desperate apology filled his ears. He hated mess and disorder, knowing his father hated it even more. He glanced to the king, fully expecting the man to furiously rage at Amalia, as he would have for any of his children had they made such a mistake. Before Robert could, Christopher decided to get in first. "Can you not even hold a damn glass?!" Christopher coldly asked Amalia before tightening his jaw. "How can you ever be queen if you can even bloody feed yourself and hold your drink?!"

"ENOUGH!" the king roared at his eldest son. "Sit back down and let us get through this dinner. It was simply an accident. Poor Amalia is nervous, having to share this table with us," the older man said, his features softening as he sent Amalia a reassuring smile.

Of course, it was obvious to Christopher now. His father wanted him to react and to be the bad guy in the situation. He was also sure the king was being nice to Amalia to get to him, to rub it in his face that he would have to marry her, whether he wanted to or not. Christopher lifted his own glass from his place at the table and carried it with him as he went to sit in the empty seat beside Stephen. He anticipated a backlash, whether his father disapproving of his choice of seat or one from his siblings whining about him hurting Amalia's feelings...

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

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Queen Arielle Ravenswood
Arielle nearly choked on her wine when Amren gave her retort. The damn girl was talking back, again, and this time about something she knew nothing about. Because Arielle was the mother, she felt no obligation to explain what truly happened. Maybe if she did, Amren would understand but the Queen knew she owed nothing to her. "I'd watch your tongue. You speak of things you know nothing about. You only think you know because of what I allow." Her words were whispered as harshly as she could manage without letting people know what she was talking about. She had noticed how many glasses of wine her daughter had consumed and ordered the servant girl to stop serving it to her. "Your tongue gets looser and you get bolder and on a day such as this I highly recommend you stop." It was said with a very threatening tone, her eyes never landing on Amren.

Before Amren could respond or Arielle say more, there was a crash and then yelling. Watching the whole scene unfold before her eyes brought Arielle back to a place that she never thought she would return to. Her hand froze in place as her breathing quickened. This lasted until Robert stopped her son's yelling; her eyes took a while to peel from her son to her husband. For a quick moment she looked back and forth between the two of them. They were alike in more ways than one and she blamed herself for that. This is why now, more than ever, she needed to try her best to undo what had been done. Her mind was frozen, unknowing what to do as she watched her son move to sit near Stephen. It was probably a good thing, too. A few moments later and she had composed herself. "Well," she started, watching as the mess was cleaned. "I understand how nervous you are, but do try to be careful and calm down. We're not a pack of animals out to get you, Amalia." It was a harsh truth and this tough love is obviously what she needed at the moment.


Stephen Crowley
This dinner was turning into something of a show for him. It usually was every night, but today's episode involved the poor soon-to-be Queen getting quite the earful. Not only was Christopher giving the poor girl a hard time, but so was Amren. It was to be expected, of course, but it was still hard to watch. A twinge of guilt crossed him as he shook his head and sipped from his cup. Amalia was definitely going to need all the help she could if she were going to be their ruler, that's for sure. No doubt in his mind that Arielle would help her, but at this moment it didn't seem like she would be. The Queen was frozen and obviously unsure of how to go about the situation. Luckily, Christopher resolved it all himself and came to take a seat next to him.

A mischevious grin crossed his features as he chuckled. "And I thought your mother had a temper." He joked. There were many times where Stephen had seen him lose his cool and never ceased to be amusing in the slightest. After a slight pause and drowning the little wine that was in his cup, his eyebrows furrowed. He glanced at Gabriel for a brief second before looking at Christopher. "You know, you could take this opportunity to mold the poor girl into the wife you'd like her to be. Submissive seems more your fancy." It was a joke, and Stephen's smile widened at him. Hearing Arielle finally speak up, he again diverted his attention to her and raised his cup. "I'd like to just say that I am an animal. But since you're spoken for, I won't bite." Arielle sent him a scalding look, to which Stephen responded by giving her a silent toast and drinking from his cup again. It was all in an attempt to divert the attention from the poor girl; a smart one he hoped no one would notice. It'd be his unbecoming if anyone figured it out.
Christopher ( Misty Gray Misty Gray ) Amalia ( seasonedcat seasonedcat ) Amren ( Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow )
 
Amalia felt something inside her shatter as Christopher raised his voice at her. Everything hurt inside her. She was such a disappointment to her family, and to her new one. She lightly flinched whenever the king raised his voice, feeling as if she was going to break down into sobs. She whispered a very tinny sorry to Christopher as he left to go sit somewhere else, her heart aching with each step he took away from her.

Maybe she was wrong to think that she could ever be something to Christopher. Why would he ever want someone like her? She is so far from perfect that it's pitiful. Christopher would be better with anyone other than her. She was ugly. She was clumsy. She was horrible in social situations. She was awkward. She was unwanted. She was imperfect. Amalia was never going to get Christopher to love her was she? Not just because he didn't want this marriage, because she was Amalia.

Amalia numbly sat back down on her chair, her eyes still brimmed with unshed tears as a maid came to clear the mess she made.. Her face throbbed with how hot it felt, she hated how this diner had turned out. Amalia smiled painfully to the maid and muttered a small thank you, both for cleaning up the glass and the small comfort she had given Amalia. It didn't help, but it was appreciated.

"I am s-so very sorry your Majesties. Please do forgive me for interrupting the dinner. There must be something in the air today, forgive me for being so nervous." Amalia for the first time while she was at the palace spoke the way she was instructed to do by her teachers, with calmness and respect. The numbness that had engulfed her body made it easier to speak like she wasn't nervous.

Her gaze was far off as she sat at the table, she didn't want to be here anymore. She didn't want to live anymore. It was so silly that Christopher was making her feel this way merely because he didn't love her, but this unlove for her was making her realize all her imperfections. She hated herself so very much at this moment and she just wished she could act as she was supposed to for once.

Misty Gray Misty Gray Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow Moka-chan Moka-chan Hysterical Hysterical Braddington Braddington Teh Frixz Teh Frixz
 
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Adelia Ravenswood
Adelia practically held her breath as the dining room broke out into chaos around her. She watched as Amalia grew more and more flustered, struggling to even complete a proper sentence. On a normal day, she might have offered Amalia a sort of olive branch to rescue her from the horribly tense situation she was in. However, today she was grateful for the chaos, as it detracted attention from her, and decided to stay quiet. Though, she was slightly disappointed that the metaphor of her dress hadn’t caught.

She had often felt so persecuted as she sensed Amalia felt. She was commonly a ray of light in the darkness of the palace, and it wasn’t often well received. With the combination of politics and growing rigidness filling the castle walls, someone so enthusiastic and bright was ill-favored. She knew Amalia was trying her best to do and say what was right but it seemed her lack of knowledge and experience made this close to impossible. She wished to give Amalia some sort of comfort, but it was clear that she was too distracted.

At the bellow of her father, Adelia’s muscles tensed. The room seemed to grow still. A few comments passed back and forth between Amalia and the other guests seated at the table. There was an occasional clink of a plate or sip from a glass, but still the room seemed to be at rest. She exhaled, grateful for a moment of silence, and took the last bite of food from her plate. She signaled to Feyre, who had finished cleaning the broken glass, to take her plate.

She watched as Amalia’s eyes seemed to glaze over. She knew the feeling. She looked around to the varying expressions of her family members. Some had clear disdain in their eyes, others empathy. The biting comments made by those around her fueled a disappointment that only seemed to grow as she acknowledged it. Maybe it was because the executions caused anger and sadness that they took out on one another. Or more likely, it was merely because they had hostility in their bones. Either way, the silence in the room filled her with unease. Desperate to take the attention off of Amalia, and Adelia swallowed her pride and made a move.

“Well,” she took a deep breath and continued, “This has been a less than satisfactory evening. After all we’ve been through this past week, you seem to have no sympathy and continue to berate and ridicule. Do you have no patience for the weary nor warmth for the grieving? There really is no rest for the wicked.” She looked to the king seated at the head of the table. “Father, If you’d excuse me, I’d like to retire to my room. There’s no place for me in this room full of contempt.”

Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow seasonedcat seasonedcat Moka-chan Moka-chan Teh Frixz Teh Frixz Misty Gray Misty Gray Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Hysterical Hysterical
 
Gabriel Lancaster

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As he'd expected, the dinner was proving to be quite an unpleasant experience for Gabriel. At least when he was simply standing guard, it was easy to distance himself or at least stand outside of the room. Unfortunately, Robert's invitation meant he was placed in a position of no easy escape. He felt himself wishing for some kind of security breech or other emergency he could reasonably use to excuse himself from the family's drama. The man almost rushed to his feet when Amalia dropped the glass, but he was reminded of the servants there to clean the mess. What followed was the typical kind of coldness from Christopher which did nothing to put the poor young woman at ease. After a stern word from the king, the eldest prince moved to sit further down the table, next to Stephen and therefore well within Gabriel's immediate view. "Nobody is perfect, not even you," the guard quietly reminded Christopher, motioning to the prince's arm which had been cut during training earlier in the day due to Christopher's own error. The prince simply glared at the older man, but didn't respond, knowing to draw attention to his injury would also bring further damage to his own ego, for his lack of focus during training.

Gabriel couldn't help the small smile that Stephen's comment evoked. His friend was clearly attempting to divert the attention away from poor Amalia, but he suspected it wouldn't be enough given their present company. However, Adelia then spoke and he had to wonder if this was another attempt to save Amalia from everyone's focus.

The man listened as Adelia spoke what was on her mind and he couldn't help but feel saddened by her words. The youngest princess was still grieving and he couldn't disagree with her words. When she made it clear she wished to leave the table, his eyes immediately shot towards the king.

"No. You will remain seated until everyone has finished with dinner and I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself, girl!" the king coldly ordered. "I won't have you roaming the palace on your own!"

Gabriel cleared his throat before suddenly rising from his seat and sending a nod in Robert's direction. "Sire, I'm afraid I must attend to my duties. It's getting dark and I need to ensure the grounds are completely secured and all of my guards are where they should be," he explained. "I will gladly escort Princess Adelia back to her room so she isn't walking by herself." He saw no risk for the girl walking the place by herself, but he would play along. The king begrudgingly agreed and Gabriel was certain he'd later hear a lecture about not intervening in family matters from his master in future. He was frankly too exhausted with the day to worry about that for the moment. Besides which, he didn't wish to sit back and watch Adelia receive a verbal lashing for her comments.

Gabriel held the dining room door open and waited for Adelia to exit the room before he walked alongside her. "Your Highness, how are you feeling today?" he asked the youngest princess, his voice soft but still firm. It pained him to know he'd played a part in the girl's deep grieving. Though he'd had little choice in the matter, he'd been the one who had to lead Margaret to the gallows and he'd been forced to stand by as she was hanged. It was the worst part of his job.

arryn arryn (Adelia)
Present: Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow seasonedcat seasonedcat Moka-chan Moka-chan Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess
 
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Amren Ravenswood

Breathe.

There was a writhing mass of blackness inside her that threatened to lash out at her mother. There were times she wanted to shake the Queen and tell her. But in the end, it would earn her nothing but sympathy. And she didn’t need her sympathy.

Amren’s nails dug into the wood table as the King yelled across the table, her anger a whirlwind ready to burst through her skin, as he directed his anger at Christopher, though she kept her features eased into sharpness.

Her thoughts drifted away from the table, her gaze zoning away on Christopher as she pictured him as a child, when they were both children, and much more different.

The closet had changed her once. Then twice.

But Christopher...nothing had been done to him but her parents own fault of parenting. Her father specifically, transformed Christopher slowly into his mirror image. How, she did not know.

Adelia’s voice broke her from her thoughts, and her piercing gaze snapped to her youngest sister sharply. Her eyes flicked to her sisters apparel as she gave her little speech that she was aiming towards the more hostile members of the table, including herself she was certain. Red. It was a statement for her very dead friend, whom would never see the red dress. The King and Christopher surely would miss the metaphor entirely or not care at all. Either way, her efforts were wasted.

There was annoyance in her gaze when her sister turned to her father and asked to be excused. If they could leave, Amren would have left with a bottle of wine the moment she entered the room. Amren wondered if her sister ever got tired of being so self-righteous, and was about to ask if she was the King spoke.

No. Didn’t speak. Snapped. As if Adelia needed permission to speak.

Amren’s short fuse blew, the writhing blackness blowing free as she whipped about sharply, turning her angry silver glare to the King.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Amren snapped, her words silencing the room, “she’s not some dog to be silenced when you will it.” Her words were as sharp and angry as cold ice and steel. She despised being talked down to, and even more so when her younger siblings were treated as such by the King. The room was dead silent at the thick tension that hung in the air, even Feyre, who had just grabbed Adelia’s plate, stilled, daring a quick glance at the King and almost seeming amused, her eyebrow arched in a smug fashion, though so brief it hardly existed at all.

Amren’s nails drummed dangerously on the wood table, as they often did when she was angry. She certainly knew how to not only bark but bite, and her temper was at its wit end. Indeed, both Christopher and the King has very big bites. But Amren also had her fair share of danger to her as well, one could simply ask the girls that locked her in the closet as a little girl, what Amren had done to them.



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Christopher Ravenswood
~ Royal Family's Dining Hall ~

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The King's eyes shot to Amren as she spoke and the expression on his face was more than enough evidence of how furious the man was. He suddenly stood, intentionally allowed his chair to make a loud scraping noise as it moved across the floor. He looked down at Amren, his eyes practically burning through her skull. "Amren, it is time you and your sisters learned not to speak unless it is appropriate. I will be pushing forward with my intentions to find a suitable husband for you. The sooner you are married and living away from this palace, the quicker you will know your place."

Christopher glared as his father spoke of having his sisters married off as though they were nothing of true value to him. He began straightening out the cutlery in front of him as he tried to maintain control of his own emotions, wishing for any words that did escape his mouth to be said in a controlled manner. "You haven't succeeded in having me married off yet, Father. Perhaps you shouldn't exert yourself focusing on too many ill-thought-out weddings at once..." he said, sending Amalia a glance.

"I will speak with you later," Robert assured Christopher. "I find your behaviour the most disappointing. If you cannot control your own family's table, then how can you ever rule this kingdom?" he coldly asked his eldest son. He dismissively waved his hand aside, not wishing to hear any further arguments, before leaving the room to retreat to his study.

Christopher's eyes remained fixed on the back of Robert's head until the man was out of sight. Once the man was gone, the prince looked around those remaining at the table. "On that note, you are all welcome to leave the table," he flatly told them. "Quite frankly, most of you are putting me off my dinner with your incessant whining." He raised his hand and beckoned one of the servants over to refill his wine glass. "All of this drama because of that bloody maid. She was inept with her duties and merely insignificant. I barely knew who she was when she was alive, yet now she's dead everyone's speaks as thought she'd lived with purpose. I can't bear to hear further mention of her."
 

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