Fantasy &nbsp; Court Of Secrets

Cosmo · Nov 25, 2017

Sigismund Clodomir, the Barley Knight

The corner of his lip twitched as he watched the queen waltz with the northern lord, it seemed the sully youth trying to find their independence through acting out was truly in the man's nature. Thumbs the other nobles by refusing to dress or act like them, offends them by asking the Queen to dance as... him and then dances a very timely waltz, something a lot of practice was needed to do meaning the young lord had a dance instructor as a youth, or his mother taught him, one of the other. Just when they believe they have him figured out, he purposely does the opposite to insult them. It was amusing in the way a child screamed they were not a child. No amount of purposely thumbing the other nobility would change the fact he is nobility, clinging on to that slim difference to make himself known. He was sure the children would come up with quite the mental image of the northern lord. Of course, Sigismund couldn't waltz, that was far beyond his knowledge or skill-base but that was to be expected.

"Excuse me," a small voice came from behind him and he stepped aside to let the owner of the voice, a small mouse of a servant, slip by him with a tray of drinks. He had seen her before, but he couldn't place a name to her face, he wasn't sure why, but Sigismund's green eyes traced her as she picked her way through the crowd. The way she kept playing with her skirt with her free hand, how the liquid in the drink tipped precariously on the tip of their glasses as her arm shook although he did not know why. It was common for new servants to be like that but this small woman had worked her for at least as long as he had been here. Any nerves should be gone, any fear that remains would be for noble men looking to press their position to force favors from her but that wasn't what this is. A noble took a step back and nearly ran over the small woman, instead of trying to stead herself, her free hand went to one of the glasses and when her hair blew past her face, it was pale and her eyes were incredibly wide. She was terrified. Of spilling? Sigismund tilted his head unable to take his eyes of woman.

His heart stopped when she held up her hand to stop a young noble and before he could open his mouth to reprimand her, she turned the tray offering him a drink from the other side, but kept her thumb on the drink he tried to grab. Sigismund left his polearm leaning against the corner as he moved through the crowd, pushing when needed, but doing his best to avoid drawing too much attention, the last thing anyone needed was a panic, and he very much doubted the Queen would look kindly on him ruining her ball for a false alarm or doing something that would make her look weak, but he couldn't stop the feeling in his heart. It was poison, he was sure of it, she kept her thumb on the glass to mark what it was, he didn't know whom it was destined for but that didn't matter so much as stopping her and having it examined and her detained.

As he drew closer, he realized who the target was, it was the Queen, Almina, herself. Having just finished the waltz, a rather engaging and laborious dance, a servant offers her a drink to cool off, a common enough occurrence, an unnoticed occurrence no more rare then it was to have their servants dress their pampered behinds every morning. Sigismund picked up the pace nearly shoving someone out of the way in his hurry to make it in time, but never broke his brisk stride. He wasn't sure who he just passed, could have been a man or a woman for the attention he paid to anyone else but that glass in her hand being extended and Queen Almina's hand ready to receive it.

Quick as a viper, Sigismund's hand shot out and closed around the serving girl's hand, crushing it to the glass ensuring she couldn't escape or 'accidentally' drop the glass and the evidence in one quick jerk. Sigismund didn't say anything, he didn't want to draw too much attention. With the music and dancing, there were good odds this event would go unnoticed by most with only those observant few catching on. With his free hand, he removed another drink from the tray and offered it to her but shook his head slowly as he did so, while he did not believe all the drinks were poisoned, there was no sense in risking it. This was only to help mask what had just happened, nothing more.

After he handed off the drink, Sigismund gripped the girl's shoulder and steered her into the crowd as he pulled the glass from her limp hand. Shock was setting in, and his hand could already feel her convulsions as she started to shake, he needed to get her out of the room before she broke down and made a scene, the very thing he had been trying to avoid as he moved back into the crowds to have her detained and the contents of the glass examined... He would leave this out of the story.

SandraDeelightful (So it begins!)

MJ ._. · Nov 26, 2017

Anna Bella Moor

They way Anna had focused on the queen and lord Brightfalme dancing, she was going to lose everything else happening around the hall. Although she could hear everything from servants later, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it herself. Her gaze was locked on their faces, reading words they spoke whenever was able to see their lips. Nothing was going to escape hawk’s eyes; not even the queen calling Daeron ‘my lord’ again or Daeron casting a suspicious looked toward the only pal the eldest prince had brought. Putting those two men together, she couldn’t think of anything they had in common but shameful rumors women whispered about them which wasn’t important enough to be paid attention to by the lord of north during his dance with the queen. She was thinking of the right person for digging it up when noticed her mistress holding something small in her fist secretly while departing with her partner. What immediately struck Anna’s mind was that the queen had received a secret message. Athough she knew poking her nose into Almina’s secrets could cost her head, that simple thought covered everything she had been curious about before.

As the queen was alone again, relatively, the lady in waiting took a few steps closer and looked around to find her special maid to bring her her favorite drink. She wished to ask the queen why she used to call Brightflame ‘my lord’ when she was a queen so he couldn’t be her lord. But that was nothing more than futile thoughts as she would never question her queen about trivial matters like that. Actually she rarely questioned her highness.

No matter where she looked, she couldn’t find that maid she needed at the time. But oddly, she saw another face approaching the queen; a short woman whom Anna hadn’t met before. The way she was coming toward them wasn’t acceptable since a maid couldn’t offer people around the queen drinks before bringing one for her and non of glasses she carried was from those that she always insisted to be used only for her majesty. Even if the maid was new and wasn’t aware of disciplines Anna had made servants of the queen take in consideration, she should’ve learn that carrying queen’s glass on the same plate of normal glasses was insulting. The food and drink that were prepared for queen had to be tested before use, that’s why she always had to be served in a special plate with a silver spoon on it. Anna frowned deeply at the wrong behavior of the maid and decided to send her away but suddenly, a guard that she knew was sir Barley stepped between them and caught maid’s hand as if arresting her and her glass together. He sequestered one of glasses and pushed the maid out of hall silently. Anna was frozen in spot not being able to believe that she had just witnessed capture of an assassin right in the middle of the ball. She reclaimed her composure soon and painted her face with a soft smile then turned to go back to the queen and there she saw the woman she had been looking for carrying a crystal glass on a silver plate in her hands. Gladly, she approached her and tested the drink with silver spoon then left the spoon in maid’s hand and took the plate to the queen. “Your majesty…” She called her softly as bowed her head. “That was a graceful dance you charmed our eyes with… Your favorite drink is ready if you desire it.” She spoke with a kind smile as offered the drink.

Cosmo

SandraDeelightful

Trompe lOeil · Nov 26, 2017

Lord Eamon of Dantes

Eamon was glad his comment about Prince Theodore had been well received. The Prince's protectiveness of his sisters was well-known, after all - one needed only to glance in the Prince's direction to know that he watched his sisters like a hawk. A 6'4", strangely protective hawk. "Oh, that's quite all right, then. I've a terrible sword arm." He took the liberty of moving a little closer to Lady Elizabeth, because, well, life was short, and risks were exciting.

He couldn't help but notice that the Lady was nervous, which was flattery of the highest form. At least the care he'd put into his hair and wardrobe was working on someone. He was aware that he made a few of the palace maids nervous, and he tried to encourage their affections when he had the energy. Reputations took a lot of maintaining, after all. Elizabeth's hand trembled faintly when he took it in his. The conversation seemed to be putting her at ease, though, so he resolved to continue that.

"Well then, may I officially say that I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. I'm sure it's important to see and be seen, in your position. An absence at an event like this would cause a greater stir than a faux pas." As the orchestra struck the first cord, Eamon added, "And to Elizabeth, if I might be so bold, I'll say that I shall do my best to keep you entertained." He tried to listen with a sympathetic ear, but honestly, he'd kill to be spoken of in that way, if it meant that people were talking about him. The most he could hope for was an approving eye, a quick, "Oh, he's handsome enough," or even worse, the general understanding that he was good at his job.

"That must be difficult," he tried, attempting a rueful smile. "I can't imagine. I, personally, love balls. The glamour, the intrigue - everyone looking their best, and at their worst." He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "You've proven that ugly rumors can't keep you away from the court. Eventually they'll tire of the subject and move to someone else." At least, he assumed they would.

The dance began in earnest, which gave Eamon a chance to show off one of his actual talents - dancing. He held himself with an easy grace, and that translated easily into the dance steps. The Lady Elizabeth was no slouch herself, of course, which helped. It was hard to dance well when someone was stepping on your toes. In response to Elizabeth's suggestion, he inclined his head. "Thank you, my lady. Oh, that's the other thing I was going to say." He leaned in close during the next step, to murmur in her ear, "If they're going to gossip about you anyway, why not have a little fun?"

Look, if an opportunity like this was going to fall into Eamon's lap, he was going to take it.

As the dance picked up, Eamon reflected on what the Prince had said to him. God, he hoped that he wouldn't have to clean up after him tomorrow morning. Eamon had had to smuggle a few ladies out of the Prince's chambers before dawn, lest their husbands - or, sometimes even worse, their mothers - find out. It wasn't the Prince's activities that bothered him; God knew that Eamon would love to be up to the kind of dalliances the Prince was. It was how often they inconvenienced him. Your Liege ruining the reputation of a girl didn't exactly make the rest of her sisters want to consider you as a suitor.

The dance finished, and Eamon bowed again. "Would you care to go out on the patio?" he asked Lady Elizabeth. "It may feel a bit less like we're at a ball." In either case, he wanted a drink. He hadn't had time for a glass of wine before the dancing had started, and that was criminal. They served some excellent vintages at the palace. As the dancers formed up for the next piece, Eamon allowed himself to be in the path of a servant carrying a tray of glasses. He took one for himself, and raised an enquiring eyebrow at Elizabeth.

One last thing to do: if Elizabeth took him up on his offer, he'd need a chaperone. Well, not exactly, but he wasn't an idiot. He couldn't be seen walking onto the patio with just Lady Elizabeth. He wasn't sure his meager reputation could stand the strain. Lady Yesenia seemed like a possibility. Eamon made his way to her little corner and bowed. "My lady, I can't help but notice that you've not danced at all this evening. Perhaps you'd like to go out on the patio? The cool air might make for a nice change." He honestly expected her to reject him, if the expression she'd had on her face was anything to go by, which was fine with him. The thrill of the dance had emboldened him - he was ready to take a risk.

Uasal

Hell0NHighWater · Nov 26, 2017

Sir Alistair Therin

He stood at the very edge of the ballroom, feeling the the silent observer to a world that was not his own. These parties were always such a headache, but the nobility had to have their handful of hours to openly gossip and scorn one another. Otherwise, he assumed, that they would all die of boredom. How fortunate that would be. Steel blue-grey eyes, the color of sun bleached forget-me-not petals ringed with deepest indigo, surveyed the corners of the room. He looked in the places most would not, making mental note of the guards in position and anything that may need change with the rotation in the next hour. Alistair's gaze paused on a particular guard stationed by the front of the room, the one closest to the Queen, taking note of the way his hand slowly drifted towards the pistol near his waist. His head tilted to the side slightly, not daring to move before he realized what it was the guard -whom he deduced to be Sir Barley- was being cautious about. There was no such thing as being too careful, but the more he also watched the interaction playing out between Gabriel Silvyre and Euphrosyne and found no malice that would warrant a response from him. Mentally dismissing the interaction, he folded his hands behind his back as he continued to make his rounds.

Alistair payed little attention to the whispers and stares that seemed to follow him. He was invisible, yet seen. It wasn't unusual for him to cross paths with a young woman seeking a title at events like these. Not that he had much of a title to begin with, but when young ladies couldn't snag anyone higher on the food chain, a Knight was better than having no title at all. His features twisted into a small scowl at the thought, loathing these parties even more. It was just like him to over-analyze the situation and sour his own mood. Movement on the dance floor caught his eye, a swish of midnight fabric accented by the deepest red. Blinking, he followed the fabric upwards searching for the owner of the dress. Every time she moved, he became entranced once more and it was as if he had no control over the way his eyes stared so blatantly. Alistair watched as she twirled around in the arms of some faceless man, bringing her features into view. Princess Azalea. Heat infiltrated his cheeks, dusting the tanned skin with the palest shade of pink. He cleared his throat rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to play off the embarrassment he felt.

"By the Gods..."

He cursed under his breath forcing himself to look at anything other than the Princess who had put him under her spell just like every other bloody fool in the room. Stewing in his own self-annoyance he made his way over to the other end of the room rather quickly. It was easier to escape the uneven beat of his heart then confront what that may even mean. It had been a year since he had filled the old commander's shoes and he loved the job. More than any woman anyhow. Nothing would change that or keep him from preforming his duties to the crown.

When he finally completed his first round, he stopped somewhere on the side of the room. His body tense and face carefully crafted into a look of mild boredom. His armor gleamed in the low light, the silver plating making him look as if he were glowing.

"Was the dance that bad, Lady Tassis?"

He greeted in a more sarcastic manner than he probably should have. His lips twitched into a sort of half smirk as he moved out of her way seeing the powered haste of which she left the dance floor. The man whom she had being dancing with must have made a poor partner for her to make an exit like that. Alistair arched an eyebrow slowly, placing his hands behind his back as he moved his attention back to his guards that stood like sentries around the room.

Ms. Sparrow

Cosmo

Aio · Nov 26, 2017

Yesenia Isadora Tassis

Yesenia stood in silence. Much of the audience had finally recieved the message that she did not wish to mingle.Although it wasn't that she didn't wish to mingle, it was simply she had better things to do than search for a potential husband. She had managed to elude her aunt for most of the ball by constantly moving around the floor any time she caught eyes of her. Yesenia knew she only had a few more hours to go before she could rid herself of her wretched dress and dress herself in something far more comfortable.

Watching the crowd Yesenia sighed, the ball seemed be in full swing, with people dancing and their chatter filling the room. Upon looking at the crowd her eyes landed on Lord Eamon who seemed to be making his way towards her. A slight smirk appeared on her lips as her eyebrow rose, this would be interesting. "Lord Eamon for what do I have the pleasure?" Her voice was a mixture of amusement and curiosity. She folded her arms in front of her light she was taught to do, straightening her shoulders as she looked at him. With her height she needed to to make herself as tall as possible.

Her attention was caught by Sir Therin, she gave him a look and shook her head but his words caused a soft cuckle to escape her lips. "I'm afraid my feet will never recover." She spoke. "It's better to be never spoke of again." She joked, eyeing him as he turned to watch the ball before she looked back at Lord Eamon, raising an eyebrow. "You wish me to accompany you to the patio?" She looked around to see Princess Elizabeth not so far away. Ah, so that's why. She thought. Her first reaction was to tell him to stop wasting her time but on the other hand watching the two together might be amusing. "I'd be delighted." Yesenia finally spoke. Turning to Sir Therin once more, "You're welcome to join. Perhaps there are some bad guys who are sneaking around outside." She said with a smirk, her eyebrow raised as she awaited for a response. Yesenia knew most likely he would say no, as it was a knights job to keep close to the royals but if it was her she would be bored out of her mind.

Nightblade · Nov 26, 2017

Daeron

Daeron had left the queen and made his way over to the balcony, giving a discreet nod, two of his companions Vex and Astrid to accompany him. Heading out to the balcony with them he took in some air. Vex stood with her arms crossed and Astrid lounged against the railing, taking a drink of wine.

"So how are we to get started?"

Vex asked as Daeron crossed his arms. In the opinion of both his brother and himself, the South looked down on the North for too long. Now with the kings death and the clear power struggle, Daeron had been sent south to forge out an alliance that the north would benefit from.

Looking thoughtful at the insight from the ball he started to see the formations of different factions, the biggest being the Queen and the Crown prince. Taking a drink, a plan began to form. The prince was a known womanizer but hated the idea of a womanizer. Maybe he could get one of the girls to catch the princes Notice.

Thinking carefully he decided he would go with Astrid as she was good with seduction. As Daeron remained speaking with the two girls, his mind was drifting to the princes steward, despite the appearance of looking for a woman, Daeron knew his preferences lay elsewhere. Since Daeron was not picky about his choice of bed partners he knew how to pick up on someones choice

Uasal · Nov 26, 2017

Lady Elizabeth of Leston

Elizabeth was quite proud of herself as the dance moved into full swing. Not only had she managed to avoid stepping on the lord's toes but she was actually managing to keep up with him. Now in no way was the Lady Elizabeth bad at dancing, she was in actual fact quite good. Not as good as her elder sisters but she was quite capable. No, the fact she was able to dance while in a state of worry was what made her proud. The fact she was able to dance with Eamon is what made her proud. And the fact she was even somewhat matching his skill was what made her proud.

However what perhaps made Elizabeth most proud of her skill was the fact that she even managed to dance properly after Eamon had whispered in her ear. The sudden movement of the Lord did, however, turn her pale face a crimson red, more crimson than ever before in fact. For someone who had wished to keep his distance, the young Lord wasted no time in whispering sweet or even mischevious remarks in her ear. However, that was not to say the Lady did not welcome his whispers wholeheartedly. In fact, had he of wanted to perhaps the Lady would have allowed him to do so some more had he wished it.

The contents of said whisper were at first unimportant to the young lady however with time they soon began to dwell on her mind quite some bit. Just what exactly had the Lord in mind? What was he planning? Should she really be acting out at a time such as this, with a title such as her own? Elizabeth had several questions to add but could only hope to find the answers through further interaction.

And luckily for her, the Lord too seemed to want to continue conversing. At first, of course, Elizabeth jumped at the opportunity to be alone with the Lord on the patio. Thoughts of a starlit romance rooting itself firmly in her brain as she did so. However, she was soon brought back to her senses when the Lord moved across the room and asked if Yersinia would care to join them. A crushing feeling of defeat soon coming to fill her stomach as she watched the man she admired ask another for company. And yes, it was evident he didn't ask for the reason of courtship but to Elizabeth. Well, she was well on her guard, eyes fixed and ears on high alert. She would not be outdone now, not when things were finally going her way. Well, in her mind.

After Yersinia gave her response, Elizabeth made her way over to Eamon and took her place by his side. Speaking softly with a humorous underline as she arrived "Eamon, I believe we should get going quickly. That is before my brother decides he too is to tag along."

Slade · Nov 26, 2017

“A countess.” One suit of armour nodded to another. They walked through the halls of the Leston castle, heading to their respective posts before the ball began. “I'm worth a countess at least. You’ll see.”

Mathias could only laugh at his fellow knight. “Reynold, my friend, you’re deluding yourself.” He jabbed the other man’s arm, the sound of metal upon metal clanging upon contact. “Drinks on me tomorrow if you’re even lucky enough to get a desperate baronness tonight.”

The other knight only groaned in distaste, though when the pair of them finally reached the ballroom, and Reynold decided to take off his helmet, his face bore no sign of ill-temper. Tiny tongues of flame danced upon the grand chandeliers and the ornate sconces, accentuating the man's features, making the mischievous glint in his eyes much more apparent. Reynold took a deep breath, and with a casual wave, he took his leave.

“I’m off to make my rounds, then.”

“Ah, Sir Reynold.” Mathias shook his head, chuckling. “Hard at work, as always.”

Alas, as soon as Mathias was left in his own company, the smile upon his face fell away. He stood up straight, shoulders square and stiff, eyes scanning the faces across the room. He’d always reveled in these pretentious little ceremonies, of course; it was just that these days, he had to remind himself to keep a lookout for certain familiar faces first. The last thing he needed was an awkward encounter with his once-greatest benefactor.

After the first hour or so, Mathias almost found himself wishing for Wintercroft to show up. Everything that had happened so far was just too … unexciting. His post was by a quiet, dimly-lit hallway, and after a hormonal young couple’s fifth failed attempt to sneak in, he finally let them bribe him into giving them temporary access. Five, excruciating minutes later, he was back to square one. For a few moments, he was able to distract himself by staring at the Crown Prince’s finery -- exquisite taste as ever -- but even that was expected at this point. Perhaps if he was lucky enough, one of the Leston spawn might end up drunk enough to drive one of those ornate forks into that pasty duke’s chest. Those nasty glares seemed to foreshadow the event well enough.

But then something stranger happened. Barley was … well, Barley was moving. Not that that was strange in itself, of course -- because there Reynold was, in one corner of the room, strolling anti-clockwise as he “made his rounds” -- but Barley was actually one of the few people who took their job more seriously than they ought to. Mathias didn’t, couldn’t, miss the urgency in the other knight’s stride. Something was up.

Bloody Barley. The least Mathias deserved tonight was a bit of poison to spice things up.

When it looked like the other knight might be looking in Mathias’ direction, the latter signalled for Barley to come towards him, head jerking slightly to the side. The pair was close enough to him, and if history was anything to go by, the rest of the guests couldn’t care less what sound came out of the empty hallways behind him. It was the perfect place to interrogate the strange woman.

Cosmo

Sir Mathias Wolfe

Royal Guard

SandraDeelightful · Nov 27, 2017

Queen Almina of Leston

Once the dance between her and Daeron had ended, Almina had gone back to her spot, a prime position to greet any newcomers, and those who were fashionably late. She was left feeling a little bit warm after the dance, and was hoping to have a bit of wine to refresh her. Wine had been a favorite of Queen Almina's since she started drinking it. At her wedding, when she was seventeen. A maid was making her way over to her, with some wine and a small smile graced her lips. Only a moment later, it was replaced by a frown as she noticed the Barley Knight draw near her and crush the serving girls hands.

It was obvious he suspected something was amiss, and Almina did not want to draw any attention to it. If there was someone at the party who was out to get her, she wanted to keep it under wraps. And if the girl was innocent, which Almina highly doubted, she did not want an unnecessary panic. She took the other glass from the Barley Knight and pretended to sip it, never actually letting a drop of it touch her tongue. Everyone knew how she liked her wine, or anything she drank really, to be brought to her. Still there could be no suspicions.

Almina smiled once more as Anna came to her side with her wine, brought to her the way she liked it, so she knew that it was safe for her to drink. She smiled and took the drink, taking a sip. Anna was her most trusted servant. She never told anyone things like she did Anna.

"Thank you Anna," said Almina. She placed the other glass of wine back on the tray. "Please have someone dispose of this. Don't let anyone drink from it."

Almina knew it was probably not poison, but she certainly wasn't going to be taking any risks.

MJ ._.

Xed · Nov 27, 2017

Three years. Three years she'd been Azalea's lady in waiting, spending her days living in the palace and she still couldn't fathom how the Queen could love balls so much. Sure they were lavish with fantastic food, especially the deserts, and plenty of dancing but they were also boring because nothing much ever really happened that was out of the ordinary. That was great for her job, made it a little easier but the ever eager adventurer in her constantly longed for something to happen, anything to make palace life even a little bit more exciting, to hell if it made her job as lady in waiting any harder. Of course that was stupid wishful thinking. She wasn't a countess anymore, her father made sure of that, adventure and exploring were no longer things she was free to pursue.

Giving herself a mental slap for having entertained such ideas, Lisbelle adjusted her necklace and took a quick look at herself in the mirror. At least as a lady in waiting she wouldn't look severely underdressed as she had when she had been a countess. The pale blue gown reached the floor and the sleeves were short, leaving her arms free and unrestricted. Simple and comfortable, exactly how she liked it. A rare smile played on her lips as she tucked a loose strand of her behind her ear. She'd be wearing her hair down tonight with just a couple of her usual braids to keep her hair out of her face, after all, it needed to breath every once in a while. Hair and outfit settled, Lisbelle headed out of the room and down the hallways. Hopefully, she'd be able to catch her breath tonight as well with all the men who would surely be vying for the attention of Princess Azalea. In her position, that would be the best outcome, she'd get some respite and be able to destress, that was the only other good thing about balls aside from the sweets and dancing. If only she ever got the opportunity to actually catch a break.

Stepping into the ballroom, Lisbelle's first instinct was to search for Azalea hoping that everything was going smoothly and only heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the princess in question standing at the side and observing. As she made her way about the ballroom, Lisbelle found herself wondering why she had ever thought the palace a magical and wonderful place. Now it at times seemed so dull, so excessive that she had trouble understanding what it was that had made her pester her father to take her to the palace at any and every opportunity when she was a child. Of course, back then she had been an innocent and naive child who knew nothing, spoiled by her upbringing and doing whatever she pleased. Still, what she wouldn't give to be that naively unaware little child again, life had been so much easier when she had known nothing about the true nature of the court and passed her days playing silly games. Too bad that was impossible. She slowed at the edge of the dance floor contemplating whether to join Azalea on the other end or take this opportunity to go a little rogue tonight and wander outside on her own, give in to that ever growing urge to explore and catch a breath, forget about her duties for a moment and- Lisbelle was snapped out of her thoughts as she felt herself walk into something, or rather someone. Her face flushed in embarrassment as she bowed her head, cursing herself for having been so absent minded to not notice where she was going. She raised her head slowly to see just who she had bumped into and groaned internally when she found herself looking up at Prince Theodore. She had always been tall for a woman but next to him, even she was like dwarf. The Philanderer she'd like to call him. Perhaps a bit harsh but then he always seemed to be with a new woman every time she saw him. She had trouble dealing with him in a different sense from Azalea and had always taken pains to try and stay out of his way. Of all the people in the room she could have walked into it was just her luck that it was him. "Prince Theodore, my apologies for bumping into you. I should have paid more attention to where I was going. I'm so sorry but I must excuse myself, I have to see to Princess Azalea." That was a lie but then she'd say anything to get away before they drew any attention. The last thing she needed was for any rumours to be spreading and she knew well thanks to her father that it only took a little something, tiny spark to start a raging fire.

Misty Gray

Kent · Nov 27, 2017

Duke Gabriel Vi Silvyre

He smiled and let out a small chuckle.
"I would never surpass you, events like these are the only times I can dance." He said "The next time you see me dancing is probably on another Royal Ball."
The both of them danced gracefully. Many eyes were directed to them, some were jealous and thought of how much power they would get if they would have their sons and daughters marry one of them. He then caught the eye of one of the most respected royal guard. He was unusually moving through the crowd which irritated a few nobles. Gabriel advanced his view and noticed the Royal Guard was rushing towards the Queen's size. An unfamiliar servant was offering her a drink. Gabriel smirked.
"Don't make a fuss, but somebody is already trying to murder Her Majesty." He said while they danced. "That servant near Her Majesty, she is unaware of the proper procedures and I don't recognize her face. She would barely pass the vetting and the Head Maid won't let anyone like her near the Queen. Don't worry, your Mother won't go down that easily" He then looked back at the Princess.
"Do be careful, these days are quite dangerous." He said "but don't worry, as long as I'm here, no harm will befall you, I assure of it."

SandraDeelightful

MJ ._. · Nov 27, 2017

Anna Bella Moor

Anna smiled honestly and pleasantly; it flattered her every time queen Almina spoke respectful or kind words to her even if it was simply thanking for a service. “It’s my honorable duty, your majesty. I’ll do so personally right away.” She said as backed off gently with the other glass tainted by touch of a traitor. As she had told her mistress, she was going to get rid of the glass in person as no one else was needed to be even slightly involved in that shameful act. No one was to know that someone had dared to threaten queen’s life. Yet, she was going to ask both sir Barley and sir Therin about details of the mischief and what they had succeeded to drain out of the assassin. Surely royal guard knew how to make even a dog talk fluently. She left the hall without rushing as a servant coming and going for her mistress’s sake wasn’t unusual. Once out, she poured the wine in closest flower pot and went to the next window to break the glass on the outer edge of it which resulted in sharp shards falling down to the flowerbed beneath. She let the remnant of it fall down afterward then passed the tray to the maid who had just arrived to take empty glasses and dishes out of the hall. Anna went back to the hall and refilled her favorite spot as if nothing had happened but before long, when the middle aged head maid came to have few words with her about her earlier message, she advised her to send her youngest servant to lurk around balcony as many interesting guests had gathered there to run away from dance floor and have fresh air.

And like this Peter, a sixteen years old servant, took the plates of glasses and joined the small party on the balcony. The first group he noticed was Daeron Brightflame and two of his men. Knowing that men of the north had big appetite for wine, he approached them to serve them with clear drinks. Meanwhile, more guests moved toward the balcony by the patio. The boy could recognize Eamon Dantes and princess Elizabeth whom were being followed by other faces he couldn’t see well yet.

Misty Gray · Nov 27, 2017

Prince Theodore of Leston

The prince continued to observe Elizabeth and Eamon, curious when his manservant approach and spoke with Lady Yesenia. It seemed like they were wishing to head outside and he couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. Unless, of course, they were finding tonight's ball as suffocating as he was. For a man who had spent most of the party observing people, he didn't like the feeling of attention being on him in return. The admiring and flirtatious attention he could just about handle, but it was clear some people were watching him for less welcomed reasons. Perhaps to find gossip or even to uncover some sort of scandal about him. One thing for sure, was that any fool who sticks their nose in where it doesn't belong will never be able to speak of anything. He didn't like spies and gossipers. He certainly didn't like people beneath him thinking they had any say or any value in their opinions.

Theo was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt someone collide with his back. He quickly turned on the spot and at the same time held out his arm for a servant to take the empty glass out of his hand. It was a good job he'd finished his drink sooner, otherwise it could have ended up over his wonderful outfit. He looked down to the offender and folded his arms across his chest as he let out an irritated groan. It was Lady Lisbelle, Azalea's apparently clumsy lady in waiting. She was an interesting one and quite easy to rile up, he'd by now learned. How he liked to push her buttons from time to time.

"You are correct, Lady Lisbelle. You really should have paid more attention to where you're going." He smirked as she mentioned having to see Azalea. She was clearly awkward or conscious of being in his presence, so he would make a point of playing on that. "I'm sure my sister can wait a little longer... You know, if you're falling for me, you should have just said. I'm not sure throwing yourself at me is the most ladylike way of requesting my courtship," he sarcastically teased her.

Xed

Trompe lOeil · Nov 27, 2017

Lord Eamon of Dantes

Excellent. Eamon wasn't one to brag- oh, wait, yes he was. His plan was turning out perfectly, if he did say so himself. If only there were someone to keep track of his little victories. Perhaps his diary would be the influence for a great play someday.

"Marvelous!" he said to Lady Yesenia, beaming. "I promise not to ask you to dance." Yesenia invited the knight next to her, which was a surprise to Eamon. Oh, she had been talking to him! Perhaps it had been rude to interrupt. He'd never attempted that before. He saved all his talking about weapons and women for his Liege.

Eamon took a moment to survey the knight. Of course he'd spent his fair share of time admiring the knights - he was only human - so he had surely noticed...Sir...rats, he'd no idea. This man was so obviously not interested in men that Eamon had never bothered to chat. Everything about him seemed manly and upright, which, again, he got enough of from the Crown Prince. Nonetheless, he allowed the possibility that the knight could make good conversation. "Oh, yes, please join us. It'll be our own little party!" He looked him up and down, uninspired. Once you'd cleaned a suit of armor a few times, it became more of a nuisance than a draw. "The Lady is right, the patio could be dangerous. You never know what people could be plotting."

Lady Elizabeth had appeared at his elbow, urging them on. Eamon chuckled. "You're quite right. Best keep this party exclusive." He offered Elizabeth his arm and walked out onto the patio. The crisp night air was a relief; the only perfume in the air was the faint scent of roses, the only sound the muffled notes of the orchestra. "Ah, that's better," he remarked, tugging on his jacket collar. "One can only take the weight of so many eyes."

It was far less crowded out here, though the garden wasn't exactly empty. It was the obvious place for lovers to meet, after all. Young couples had claimed many of the more secluded benches, whispering whatever sweet nothings to each other. God, that must be nice. If only he was even faintly interested in women.

Speaking of women, there were two in his presence who seemed rather intriguing. "So, now that we're away from the gossip...my goodness, what do people talk about when they're not gossiping? Lovely weather, isn't it?" Not his strongest opening, but maybe his smirk would aid in the delivery.

A young servant came out onto the patio, carrying a tray of wine glasses. Eamon was still working on his first glass - wine like this was meant to be savored, in his opinion - but someone had obviously noticed them and sent the servant. He had to commend their enterprising nature. He also couldn't help but wonder if the servant had been sent to do more than just offer drinks. A spy, perhaps?

Uasal

MJ ._.

Cosmo · Nov 27, 2017

Sigismund Clodomir, the Barley Knight

The woman's convulsions were growing larger, her shoulders shaking and her breaths growing quicker and more shallow with each draw, Sigismund highly doubted he had much time before the serving girl fully broke down and that was an annoyance he did not want to deal with nor was it one that the Queen would want, so his grip on her shoulder tightened, more then hard enough to leave bruises upon her pale flesh, "Quiet," he warned, his voice echoing out from his helm. The effect was immediate, her back straightened as if slapped by the words. Years as a servant had ingrained a level of obedience that a commander can only dream his soldiers had. It would not last, but it did not need to, it just had to last long enough.

As Sigismund steered her through the crowd, another guard motioned to a side passage, as with all guards, it was hard to place which was which, save for the commander in his armor that he mostly likely spent all his free time polishing like a stuck up peacock. From the large blade on his back and the memory of the deployment, it was Sir Wolfe. Why the man was trying to help him was beyond him, the man was anything but reliable or steadfast. But, the passage was closer then the one he was going to and all the doors had two guards posted outside, guards who were free to leave their post unlock the interior guards which Sigismund and Sir Wolfe were. It was as good as any.

Sigismund continued to fight and shove his way through the crowd, doing his best to shield the woman from the harshest of the groups as he did not need her drawing attention. The last thing he needed was for some noble young buck to challenge him for impugning a 'ladies honor', of course the fact this serving girl was not a 'lady' and the lad wanted nothing more then to pick a fight to prove his bravado and get under the serving girl's skirts being the real reasons which he did not have the time nor patience to deal with. Sigismund pushed open the large doors and dragged the woman behind him, he was aware that Wolfe was moving towards the door as well. He wasn't sure why the other guard was, perhaps he saw something as well? For the three seconds he had truly been paying attention and doing his job?

Sigismund looked at the two guards pulling up their names from the depths of memory, Sir Engvald and Lord Hollenworth, if he was correct. Neither were great guards, but they were better then Reynolds. He handed Engvald the glass, "Possibly poison, bring it to the apothecary to confirm," Sigismund ordered.

"You don't command me," Engvald sneered back, Sigismund could almost see his thin lips peeled back behind his helm.

"No, but the Queen does. She tried to assassinate her. A poorly thought out plan. You will do as I say. I cannot leave my post. You can." Sigismund said levelly.

The two guards exchanged looks, Hollenworth offering up a half-hearted shrug, "Fine," Engvald spat out and nearly ripped the glass from his hand, "But the commander will hear about this."

"Good, maybe it will give the young peacock more to do then polish that armor of his," Sigismund ground back but kept his grip on the girl's shoulder as he waited for Wolfe to show up to tell him whatever it was he needed to. The sooner he could hand the serving girl off to Hollenworth to go to the interrogators in the dungeon, the faster he could go back to his post. He only had a little while left before he would be relieved and given a break. He intended to enjoy that break.

Slade

Slade · Nov 27, 2017

“You know, Barley, as much as you like to call the commander names, the pair of you aren’t so different from each other, are you?” Mathias grinned from behind his helmet, waving at Engvald and Hollenworth as he finally caught up to the conversation. He gave Engvald a gentle pat on the back as the latter passed him, their shoulders bumping into each other. The latter was clearly none too happy about having to take orders from the other knight. His threat about telling Barley on the commander caused Mathias to erupt into laughter.

“Why don’t you tell him now, Arch? Therin might actually be begging for any excuse to take his leave.” Mathias stopped a few feet behind Barley and the servant girl, leaning sideways against a nearby wall. “Last I saw, he was actually mingling with the guests, poor sod. You know how bad socialisation is for his health.”

From behind him, the other knight grumbled under his breath. “My shift isn’t supposed to start until an hour, and here I am wasting my time off answering to a commoner. Bloody hell.”

“What are you even doing here, Wolfe?” Hollenworth spoke up, arms crossed, after Engvald had disappeared into the apothecary. “I hardly think Sir Clodomir needs help escorting a fretful little flower out of the party, do you?”

Ah, Lord Hollenworth. Ever the voice of reason. Even if it was a slightly concerning one.

Mathias shrugged. “I’ve an hour until my post ends, and bloody Reynolds has abandoned me for the drunken hag of Western Foothills. This ball is a disaster.” He turned to Barley, chuckling. “You’re not actually thinking of leaving the poor woman in Hollenworth’s hands, are you? He just called her a little flower. I'm a mite concerned, that's all.”

Cosmo

Sir Mathias Wolfe

Royal Guard

Cosmo · Nov 27, 2017

Sigismund Clodomir, the Barley Knight

"I waited because I assumed you desired to speak to me because you saw something, but it seems you have nothing of use to say. I am not sure what else I expected, but I will not make that mistake again," Sigismund said to Sir Wolfe as taciturn as he always was.

He had long developed a certain selective hearing when it came to the other guards or nobles, ignoring the gossip and jabs and picking out the useful information, as seldom as it often came. The part of him and their peacock commander being similar was nonsense, but he suppose when a noble looked down their nose long enough, bastards and commoners started to look the same. If they were the same, the peacock would not be the commander. His selection was obvious, he was the only available option. Guards like Wolfe could not be trusted with the position, others, like Hollenworth could not be trusted because his ties to his family could outweigh his loyalty to the crown. Sigismund, himself, despite his experience, spotless reputation and hatred of corruption couldn't be the commander because he was peasant born and during such.. turbulent times a man like himself made commander would just be another rallying point for dissidents to whisper about. A peasant born Royal Guard was enough to cause ripples, the Commander? Well, it was 'simply not done'. So, they choose the young peacock, a bastard, but still noble birth and, moreover, a knight. He was less experienced then guards such as himself or Hollenworth, both as guards and as soldiers, but he had no attachments and noble blood, and yet the peacock strutted around as if he earned such a promotion. Sigismund had little respect for the peacock, but would obey him as that was the job.

"I do not care," Sigismund said with a noncommittal shrug, "She is a suspect in a possible assassination. Hollenworth is more trustworthy then some," he didn't both to mention who those some were, they knew whom they were, "and I cannot, and will not, leave my post. If you, Sir Wolfe, desire to abandon your post to ensure she reaches the dungeons safety then that is between you and commander peacock."

His task done, Sigismund bowed his head slightly to the other two guards and turned on his hill and strode back into the hall leaving the sobbing woman in the arm of Hollenworth.

Slade

Nightblade · Nov 27, 2017

Daeron

Daeron had been nodding and seeing a servant approached, took control of the conversation and explained how his sister in law was due to give birth any day now and he was waiting on the news of the birth. Taking a new drink from the young lad, he gave a brief thanks. The girls declining a drink. Nodding at Astrid, he gave her the go ahead to start moving in on the prince. Chuckling at the girls, Daeron could do nothing but shake his head at Astrid's behaviour.

He had picked his companions wisely based on the skills he felt would be needed. Astrid for her skills at observation and seduction. She could do anything from Sultry harlot to innocent lady. Vex was know for being a shadow and skills to pick any lock.

Watching Astrid leave, Daeron turned to look out the balcony and take a deep drink. Waiting for someone to approach.

SandraDeelightful

Astrid

Astrid grinned and like a child, grabbed vex and dragged her inside for a dance. She knew enough about these dances, that a man and woman could not be interrupted mid-dance but two girls having a dance could. Moving into plain sight of all, including the crown prince Astrid began to twirl in an elegant dance with Vex. She began to notice people begin to watch as she twirled with ease.

Misty Gray

Slade · Nov 27, 2017

“Ah, it’s that look, what reminds me of the commander.” Mathias pointed at Barley’s obscured -- and most probably expressionless -- face. He nodded to himself, as if he was satisfied with his own assessment. “Very peacock-ly, if I may say so myself.”

Hollenworth let out an audible sigh, holding his arms out between the two men. Surely, the other knight wouldn’t stoop to Wolfe’s level, but he could never tell these days. He was getting far too old, and far too tired, of grown men acting like a bunch of rowdy, arrogant squires. “Honestly, Wolfe? Do you simply make it a habit to try getting a rise out of others?”

“Me? Get a rise out of others?” Mathias put a hand to his chest, sounding offended. “You must be mistaken, my Lord. I’m not the one experienced with yeast here.”

“Oh, why do I bother?” The older man shook his head. He approached Clodomir and the girl, putting a hand on the latter’s back as he prepared to escort her to the dungeon. “Good work, sir. I’d keep my eyes peeled for any further attempts tonight. I hardly think whoever hired the simpering wench expected her to follow through. She could be a distraction.” He paused for a moment, expression hidden beneath the metal mask, though it was clear his own thoughts didn’t sit well with him.

“Off we go then, Wolfe, if you must insist on shirking your duties.” Hollenworth nodded at Barley before he finally turned away, beckoning Mathias to come after him. “If you behave yourself well enough, I’ll let you find which dumb oaf let her into the estate in the first place.”

Mathias laughed, doing a mock salute before he began to follow the other knight. “You realise she actually works here, don’t you? I remember her way back from my initiation ceremony. Perhaps old Ricky could tell us more about her.”

Cosmo

Sir Mathias Wolfe

Royal Guard

SandraDeelightful · Nov 27, 2017

Princess Euphrosyne of Leston

Euphrosyne beamed brightly as the dance began. She was glad to dance with Gabriel. He had much improved since she had first taught him how to dance. He had stepped on her toes quite a bit, and it definitely hurt her. Now though, he was much better, and he was dancing like a pro. Euphrosyne was proud of him for how far he had come. She was honored to be the man who taught him how to dance. She liked Gabriel, and she liked being able to spend time with him and teach him how to dance. He was kind to her, and she was glad to count him as one of her friends.

"Well, I am sure my mother will throw another ball in a few weeks time," said Euphrosyne. She sounded excited at the prospect. She loved balls, much like her mother. "I am sure that you will be in attendance. At least I hope you will, Your Grace."

Her eyes widened as Gabriel told her that someone was trying to murder her mother. She was shocked, and was beginning to panic. However, she calmed down, as Gabriel informed her that the situation was under control. She was surprised by Gabriel's next words.

A smile did cross her face at Gabriel's next words.

"You're kind, Gabriel, thank you," said Euphrosyne. "I am lucky to count you as a friend."

Kent

Hell0NHighWater · Nov 28, 2017

Sir Alistair Therin

"If there were any bad men lurking outside, I assure you that the situation would have been dealt with already."

His drawl accented some of the syllables in the words, making it sound less serious and more of an amused quip. He politely declined the invitation, it was a struggle enough to put on the airs of enjoying the festivities the last thing he wished to do was take part in it more than he had to. Unfortunately his position required a bit of diplomacy and it was expected of him to mingle with certain members of society. Alistair's cool blue gaze slid to the man who was so obviously a Lord of...something. The face was familiar but the name eluded him.

"I apologize -my Lord- but unfortunately I have pressing matters to attend to."

The lie fell easily from his lips, keeping his face passive as he nodded his head a bit out of courtesy. As if his prayers were answered, one of his knights crept up to his side. The appearance caused Alistair to turn slightly away from the cluster of nobles he had found himself talking to. "Sir." The Knight began, leaning in towards Alistair as his voice became a hushed whisper. A frown nestled itself onto his features, nodding his head slightly at the information. Swiftly he turned towards the two ladies and the lord, "Excuse me, please enjoy the rest of the evening." He dismissed himself, taking long strides towards where the Queen was. He attempted to appear unhurried, but the news of a possible poison attempt set his whole body on edge. How come he was just hearing of this now? The side of his jaw ticked in obvious irritation. He was green. He knew that. He also knew that most of the men under his command did not respect him. It was an irritant, but he was younger than most of these guards and respect was something that had to be earned.
His hurried pace led him our of the ballroom, catching sight of more than one of his guards heading into the hallway.

"Good, maybe it will give the young peacock more to do then polish that armor of his,"
Alistair stopped cold in his tracks. A cold flash of fury racing down his spine. He hovered in the doorway -and despite his 'flashy' armor- unnoticed as a gaggle of guards conversed between one another. The tension in the air was so thick he was surprised no one choked on it.

Commander Peacock.

He had to give it to them, it was a fairly good nickname. If he hadn't been the one who bore it he might even have agreed that it was funny. He folded his arms across his plated chest, the metal making a soft shrieking sound as it collided. Alistair moved with frightening quietness, there was no evidence of irritation of his face or in the way he moved. The cutting edge to his gaze was the only indicator that his rage was barely being kept in check.

Alistair allowed a cold smile to cross his lips the moment Sigismund turned. "Would you care to enlighten me on the situation, as it would give me more to do than polish my armor. Or perhaps you would care to explain why there is a prisoner, who might I add is suspect in an assassination attempt, and I was not notified immediately?" Venom coated every syllable, hovering over the slightly shorter man. His jaw ticking as if he were struggling to keep himself from bursting.
"I do not expect you to like me, Barley. But I do expect some level of professionalism."
His anger was understandable. An attempt on the life of his Queen had just taken place and no one had told him until a while after. It was his responsibility to make sure no harm came to the royal family and the fact that he hadn't known....it made him seem incompetent.

"Back to your station, Barley." He dismissed the man, exasperated but knowing that he was one of his best Guards. And frankly, as much as Alistair hated to admit it, he was the only man he trusted to guard the royal family in his stead. "I will debrief you when I am finished having a chat with the prisoner." He concluded, stalking away towards the retreating figures heading for the dungeons. He was in no way calm. In fact, mentally he was taking pleasure in the thought of bashing skulls against the stone walls.

"Do you know what else is bad for my health, Wolfe?" The question came almost out of nowhere. The small group of men turning with a start. Therin marched towards them with a smile that didn't match his eyes.
"Watching my best four guards squabble over who is giving who orders. Actually come to think of it, there should only be one person giving the orders. Commander Peacock was it?" His glacier gaze slid from one man to another, before resting on the girl. She hardly looked like an assassin. Then again, the best ones never did. His hands clasped themselves behind his back, moving to fall in line with the other guards.

"Please continue, I won't stop old Ricky from telling us more."