Fantasy the feuding kingdoms-- an arranged marriage role-play

[Reiia silver]

A long time ago there were four kings who were raised and taken care of by the good Queen Jade. Once they grew up, they each set off in different directions and started their own kingdoms, the only problem was none of them seemed to get along. This is the story of the kingdom's and the decision the Queen had to make in order to get peace among them, will it work? Only time will be able to tell.....

-Rules-
I just need to make sure everybody understands the rules, as they are very important when it comes to making sure everyone is happy.
1. No one-liners, it's hard for anyone to get something from that and to go off of it. I'm going to require that people reply no less then a paragraph and to please have no less then five sentences.
2. Be respectful of everyone and kind, it goes a long way and were all human with feelings on the other side of the computer.
3. If you do not say anything in out of character chat and randomly post a character or posted in character, we will ignore anybody who does this. It's very rude!
4. Please check this page, for an announcements and updates on what is going on, we also have a calendar located down below. If you scroll over the days, you can see what is going on for that day.​

 

[Reiia silver]

Where is everybody currently?
Currently everybody should be at their own kingdoms planning their trip for the middle Kingdom!
Give or take it should take them a couple days to get to the middle Kingdom.​

 

[Mooniee]

Lynette

The warm breeze carried the sweet scent of hydrangeas through the air. Lynette had been waiting for what felt like forever for the flowers to bloom. She had tried many times to paint the plant from memory, but the shape always turned out a bit off. Every day, she had checked the garden, taking mental notes on the growth of the flowers. Her excitement could hardly be contained when she saw the bulbs almost ready to burst open with color. Now, however, she found herself half-heartedly sketching an outline. Although her hand dragged a pencil lightly across the canvas, her mind was elsewhere. As soon as she heard the news of her marriage, she fled to the garden with her art supplies without a word. Was she really going to be married off to some man she had never met before? What would become of her siblings? Would she see them still after all was said and done? It just didn’t feel real quite yet. She had tried to convince herself it was some sort of weird joke but there was no denying the evidence in the letter. The perfect handwriting flowing across the parchment, the almost calligraphic signature, the carefully placed wax seal. All of it screamed ‘official’. Lynette could hold back a nervous sigh but couldn’t prevent the temperature around her from dropping several degrees - a physical manifestation of her nerves. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the importance of these marriages. It just wasn’t what she had expected for her future. Maybe she had been naïve, but she dreamed of at least being able to choose her own partner in life.

A glance towards her lady-in-waiting, Viana, brought on more concerns. Viana had been with her since the very beginning. Would she be able to accompany her to wherever she may end up? The two had practically grown up together, Lynette didn’t want to have to leave her best friend behind at the palace. She wanted to ask Viana at that moment but was almost too scared to hear the answer. There was the possibility that she didn’t even want to accompany her to the Middle Kingdom if she could - much less live permanently somewhere new.

Lynette shook her head, hoping to shake away any negative feelings along with it. She could worry about all of that later. For now, she needed to focus on the painting in front of her. The hydrangeas bloomed in beautiful pink, blue, and purple pastels. While she could recreate the base colors on her palette, she was having trouble creating the right shades for the areas hidden from the sunlight. When she added black, it made the colors too deep. Maybe she could add a little bit of red to create the pink? No, that made it too red. “I just can’t get the right color!” Lynette complained, throwing her hands up in defeat. The sudden movement of the paintbrush sent droplets of paint hurtling towards her face, staining her right cheek lavender.

 

[Daniel Reaving]

Viara
Location: North Castle garden
Feeling: Heartbroken, anxious, scared
Interaction: Mooniee

These past few days had been nothing short of Viara's own personal hell. Being told Lynette, her one and only, her secret love was to be married away to a stranger. It was like the gods had cursed her and the feeling didn't get better with a few days. There she stood a few feet to the side of Lynette, her hands down and held together in front of her, her back straight and poised like a good maid should stand. Though her eyes sat straight on Lynette, Silently screaming out to her in heartache and want Despite her lips remaining sealed. Never to be opened and speak the words Viara was dying to speak. Her mind was two stuck on it and she knew that was bad, She was so easily readable that it worried her Lynette would find out and so she attempted to try and hide her distressed look. Watching Lynette struggle to paint she could tell it bothered her too. Her worried glance to Viara didn't help her feelings either as she glanced to the ground to avoid Lynette noticing her internal emotions. It wasn't maid like for her to have any emotion but happiness and encouragement for her Princess.

Then she threw her hands in the air exclaiming she couldn't do it which brought a frown to Viaras lips. Taking a gentle breath in she walked over. "Of course you can my lady." She said in a soft soothing tone. Gently pulling a rag from her pocket she got close to Lynette. Bringing the cloth up she gently started to wipe at the paint, Admiring her perfect face in secret as she looked to the Painting. Her beautiful art always brought a smile to her face, even in these saddening times. The one thing she could always keep from Lynette. Looking over the painting as she continued to gently wipe at Lynette's cheek to clean her perfect skin of the lavender color. "Some times my lady, you just need to take a step back. Look at the whole painting and don't pay to much attention to the little things. Take a moment to admire it all before going back to work. No shade in nature is perfect or the exact color you want. That's what makes it the perfect master piece like you." She said which only brought a small frown on her lips as the words stuck in her mind. She couldn't help but think she was trying to give herself advice as her eyes wet from the painting to Lynette's beautiful blew eyes, staring into the a moment longer than she should have as her eyes screamed back her deepest want before she quickly looked back to her work cleaning Lynette's cheek. "Besides my Lady, I know my personal opinion doesn't matter but..... Everything you make is nothing less than a masterpiece." She said her voice dying out through the statement as she finished whipping as much of the Lavender from her cheek as she could. Taking a step back after slipping the cloth back in her pocket as she looked back to Lynette giving her a small encouraging smile.​

 

[Silver Wolf]

Argenix
Location: Palace Garden
Interactions: Viara ( Daniel Reaving & Lynette ( Mooniee )
​

Not a day didn't go by that Argenix worried about his future. He feared the weight of the crown, it terrified him as he was trained to so much as handle it. Some day, he would be king, some day he would stand on top, trying to herd a bunch of wolves in sheep's clothing. He had always hoped he could focus on himself before taking a wife, he honestly had wanted to find someone he could see eye to eye with, but the recent revelation left him with another problem on his plate. Marriage was no longer a choice. Marriage now meant something else to him, and probably the rest of the family. It meant they were nothing but pawns. He felt his mind race every time the thought crossed his mind. He would feel almost as if he would begin to see red, they were all being used as a means to an end. On his own he felt like breaking down, he wanted to give into despair for just a moment. His whole life he wasn't supposed to be a person, every time he tried it was met with a dark consequence.

One such night, he did break a little. He looked at himself in the mirror. The groomed face that was chiseled into a suspicious and hardened expression and it began to deepen, showing that there was even more to be dissatisfied with. He felt his fist rise up to punch the hideous creature standing before him, only to see it shatter, shards of mirror cutting into his fist. "I don't want the crown..." Argenix sobbed shallowly into the mirror. "I don't want a future tending to the ungrateful snakes, and this isn't helping." Yet, after that night nothing happened and he continued his days as normal. He found himself separating himself more than usual. Today, he was reading a book with a cup of warm black tea under the garden gazebo. He had been so absorbed he hadn't noticed Lynette and Viara. Such inattention was uncommon for him, and his attention had only been pulled away when Lynette had declared her defeat. He sighed, trying to calm his mind by reminding himself he wasn't the only one suffering.

The prince stood up from his seat, leaving his book open with the tea gently wafting steam into the air. He noticed Viara and grinned a little. He was glad someone cared about Lynette. It's a shame that she waited too long. He felt like he was intruding, noticing how Viara stared at his sister, and the obvious cues that she tried to hide it. From an outside perspective, he could see it. Perhaps, if Queen Jade's plan had been foiled by Viara, could the rest of them have been spared? Argenix closed his eyes, washing the thought away. He shouldn't think like that, he didn't want to make himself as bad as the snakes that hissed in the courts and parties he was forced to attend. He smiled as Viara called Lynette herself a masterpiece. A short-lived smile, but he fully emerged from his area by the hedge and walked into the area they were in.

"Masterpiece or no, I think it's lovely," Argenix walked up to the painting and smiled. "You put work into this, and you should be proud. Besides, even if it isn't perfect, there's always the next painting. And frustration is natural, especially given the current situation." He felt his left hand wander to his bandaged right. It was a talk among the servants where it did leak, the prince managed to get his hand injured in the middle of the night with no threats. Though, thankfully the exact nature of it had never been disclosed by the servants who eagerly rushed to their prince's aid. They knew how strong he was trying to be and how kind he was when they offered him generosity and loyalty without underlying motives. "Although nobody expects much from you, you have your own trials I'm sure." The last thought brought a sullen look to his face. It was corrected to his neutral expression shortly. He had to remain strong. Nobody should have to see him in such a pathetic state.

 

[Arcanist]

• Alaric, Prince of the West
• Vangelis, Prince of the East

• 
  
  
  Alaric, Prince of the West
  Location: Western Palace | Interaction: OPEN
  
  

  
  
  
  Alaric's form had been off all morning. The feeling of that cool water flowing in his grip had felt off to him, almost foreign. Strikes at training dummies with his trident felt messy, off the mark, clumsier than they had been since he was a teenager at best. He exerted himself further with more mistakes, physically gasping for breath and relief. He had to stop himself. Had he taken himself any further, he would have completely dehydrated his system. He sought cool water, and he got it, but the thought of going back to training no longer appealed to him. Alaric had enough on his mind that was affecting his usual training routine.
  
  The man had been pondering over the news of marriage, for him and both of his siblings. He knew the news had been coming for quite some time. He knew from a young age he would have to get married, considering one day he would be king. A king couldn't be without a queen, or heirs for that matter. Even as he sat and recovered, he squirmed at the thought. Not at having a wife, or children, but the contact that would be involved. The physical contact. He couldn't avoid not being touched or touching someone forever. He begrudgingly hugged his mother or sister, if it was really needed, and any other forms of contact such as hand shaking was done purely out of upholding his polite manners. The thought of having to hold hands whilst dancing was enough to turn him off. He could only hope whoever was marrying him had patience for him to become accustomed to her. If he could become accustomed to her.
  
  The training grounds were becoming too much of an eyesore for him, so he eventually decided it was best to leave and get himself cleaned up before organising himself for this trip. He had spent some time in the bath, having felt much more relaxed in the water than out on the training grounds. Water, funnily enough, seemed to be the only thing that put him at ease. Whether using it for his powers, listening to it, being in it, it relaxed him. He had stared at the water rippling around his fingers for quite some time, until the water ran cold, and he was forced out of it.
  
  The rest of the time after had been spent making sure he had everything he wanted to be packed away. He knew the servants would do that for him, but he had wanted to set out what he wanted to bring with him rather than having them hoke through all his things and guessing what he wanted to bring. As he did so, he wondered what his siblings were up to. Alaric, regrettably, hadn't seen either of them that morning. He had expected to see Eliot training as he usually did, and usually Rory popped up in his sights in the palace at some part of the day. He figured he would go and see them; though, after he had finished with what he wanted packed.
  
  
• 
  
  
  Vangelis, Prince of the East
  Location: Eastern Capital --> Palace | Interaction: OPEN​
  
  
  
  
  
  The shadows peeled back from cobble stoned streets as the sun reared its head up from the horizon. With the early morning rising, most civilians were already on the go, leaving their homes and preparing to open shop and work for the day. For one young prince, he was heading home after a raucous night in another woman's home.
  
  The poor girl was beside herself. She begged him to stay longer, for the night seemed over far too quickly. She suggested all sorts of harebrained schemes and plans for them both, such as running away together. That way, she had said, she wouldn't be doomed to living an otherwise monotonous life under a tailor in the city, and he wouldn't have to be bound to another woman. Vangelis had to suppress a snort on a few occasions in her impassioned speech. Lust was a dangerous thing, he knew, for he wielded it far too often. Had Vangelis held the choice, he would have chosen not to marry at all. Why settle on one set of grapes in the vineyard when there were plenty to be picked and had? He pitied the young woman, really, thinking that Vangelis would commit to anyone of his own volition.
  
  So, he 'regrettably' told her he couldn't abandon his duty. After all, this was for peace, wasn't it? It ensured the East would be safe from harm in the pacts each Kingdom would make with these marriages, and knowing his noble act would ensure her safety, meant more to him. His words were enough to elicit a tearful goodbye from the woman, and he was let go, believing that Vangelis would remember her name the next day.
  
  "What was her name?" Vangelis pondered as he walked along. It had entirely slipped from his mind. He supposed it didn't matter. He wouldn't see her again. As he walked along, he made sure to make himself seem somewhat presentable. After all, it was inevitable he would meet someone in passing at the palace. His mother at the entrance, standing with folded arms, her tongue loaded with sharp criticisms? Or perhaps one of his siblings, dressed, washed, and ready for the day, preparing also to travel to middle kingdom. All while he sauntered in, needing a long bath and an even longer grooming, a satisfied smirk of living up to his bachelor title. There was little time left for it, after all. He supposed he had to make the most of it, before he was chained down forever. Let's hope the woman was pretty. And bearable. Pretty and bearable, that was all he asked.
  
  Vangelis reached the entrance to the palace as grand and powerful in overlooking its kingdom as per usual. You would think a prince would feel abhorrent shame in trapsing back into his own home during the early morning, and yet, he wore that smirk like a badge of honour. He nodded to the guards already patrolling the castle grounds, the two guards at the entrance, all of whom would be gossiping like fishermen's wives over Vangelis' return from a night of debauchery. Once he had reached inside, he planned to head straight to his room to make himself more presentable and scrub himself down, unless anyone decided to stop him, that was.
  
  

 

[Diphylleia grayi]

[class=variables] --accent: #9370DB; --image: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8e/00/3b/8e003b071c0972f45e22dd6e89b41e7f.jpg'); [/class] [div class=variables] [div class=bkg] [div class=sidebar][/div] [div class=header]Minerva Morgenstern.[/div] [div class=post][div class=scroll] Minerva is hands, gaunt knuckles and willowy digits grasping to hold the edges together. Hands stubbornly wrinkling the fabric of her dress in the tightening of fists as irrefutable orders are given. Hands, desperately wringing the hilt of her sword for solutions to a problem time won't solve. Time, she was running out of time. In the long sighs of summer she counts the seconds in breaths. Uneven and stifled behind the twisting of lips and steeling of jaws; smile never fully reaching the glazed gaze of anemone which stir irregularly to life at the shrill clashes of metal. An uncharacteristic misjudgment of distance is all it takes, the slip of her foot and loss of balance following shortly after. She does not struggle against the smothering embrace of gravity, limbs not put to prop in a shout but rather giving after in the exhale of a gasp she did not know she had been holding. Fortunately for her, however, she was caught by the limbs of another instead. Hand clamping down on her wrist and strong arms pulling her in against the solid surface of a chest. The parting of lips and blankness of raised brows quickly mellows upon the realisation of having been saved; locks of brown coming to tickle her cheek as she cocks the focus of her gaze skyward toward the familiar features of the royal knight. Sailing unhurried, inch by inch, over the defined lineaments to anchor in the smooth curvature of his neck with a glimpse of mischievousness in narrowed eyes. As tempted as she was, however, to stain the skin with a peck of pink she refrained; opting to retreat in a caress of his chest with her lingering hand instead. A blend of the crispness of frost and soft floral blooms staining her inhale as she did so. What a pleasant scent. "Well, well~ thank you, dear." She hummed, pivoting around to retrieve her sword from the ground in the next breath. With a flick of her hair she was Minerva again, Minerva of the coy smile and slumped shoulders; of subdued laughter, flashing in crescent eyes and of words, warm to the touch but cold inside as they're delivered in a makeshift glance over the shoulder. "So, what's your thought on this? Is this marriage for the best?"[/div][/div] [div class=tagbar] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]location[/div]
the royal courtyard[/div] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]mood[/div]
uneasy[/div] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]outfit[/div]
her battle getup x.[/div] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]mentions[/div]
Morzone [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]

fated

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[Reiia silver]

interaction: open
Mentions: Mooniee ( Vern)​

The castle was all kinds of chaos, not only were they preparing for the travel to the middle kingdom but their youngest princess was as wild as ever. She was running through the castle, having been working all morning on giving one of the animals a bath. The animal seemed to get away from her, it was why she was running through the castle and trying to get a hold of it. She had all kinds of servants, guards and a few other workers. All the while she was giggling while she ran, she thought it was hilarious when everybody would get involved with her antics.

The truth was she was hoping it would distract her from her impending doom so to speak, she was feeling a little aggravated that she had to get married at all. There was only one person in the whole world that she wanted to marry, that was her childhood friend, Vern. She could not pinpoint the exact moment that she fell in love with him, but all she knew was that he was the only one she desired. If she could not marry him, then she would rather be an old maid.

After the war had broken out, the two could not the other as much and that did not stop their friendship. They would send letters back and forth to one another, she would remember the times he would lay on her bed and read the letters. She kept her love a secret, especially after everything else going on she was afraid of what her brothers might say. She adored her siblings, but in the same breath she really wanted her freedom and be away from the kingdom. The middle kingdom was definitely going to be pretty, but she wanted to come back to her home eventually.

It was in her moment of thought, that she quickly found herself losing her balance as she tripped falling onto the ground. I think enough she didn’t cry or anything even though it looked like it had hurt, instead she just laughed. “Well, I guess you caught me….” Her voice was a little sad and broke just a little bit, as she shook her head quickly.

 

[Reiia silver]

interactions: open
Mentions: none​

In the southern kingdom the same as all the others, there was quite a few workers hustling and bustling along. Trying to get everything ready, the journey would be long and probably rather uncomfortable. Erica was not looking forward to it, especially since she would probably not be able to bring as many books. She had no desire to weigh the carriage down with unnecessary things, even though the books would definitely keep her sane.

At this moment she was currently laying down resting on her bed, she had a book next to her and a book she was currently reading. Her lips were pressed together gently, she had been laying down due to a rather bad headache. The weather changing and different things like that would constantly make her feel a little ill. She thought about writing a letter for whoever her future husband would be, but she didn’t have any desire to put the work into one. She was still pretty shocked upon them being told they were to be married, she understood the need for peace but at the same time she felt they could find peace another way.

There was a slight knock at the door, as a maid slowly entered and made sure to keep her head down. Erica was not a tyrant of a princess, but she didn’t smile much and she was a practical princess. She put her book down for a moment, wondering why she was being disrupted. “Your Majesty, I think it would….. It would be best if we began to pack for the trip.” That prompted a rather large sigh from the young women, as she put her feet on the side of the bed.

“I am not eager to pack for this trip, I have no desire to find out who I am being forced to marry…” The man let out a small whimper, she was afraid she had made the princes mad but all the enough Erica was not mad at all. “Yes, we should begin packing for this trip….”

 

[Morzone]

Miriam
Eldest Princess of the South​

"Come on you Panzies, I thought you had the blood of Southern warriors! My maids could wield a sword better than you lay-about! Get up and take a swing if you haven't wet your pants yet."

Miriam's shouts echoed across the training grounds, perhaps a little later in the day than usual, but otherwise a sound as common as the birds. The princess stood before the most recent crowd of knight recruits, her Naginata held firmly in her hands as she stared down the remaining boys. Four were still standing, and while they hesitated now Miriam could see the resolve steeling in their eyes. Another few seconds and they likely would have attacked under their own steam, but she wasn't giving them the chance.

Like a wildfire through dry grass Miriam shot forward. Her blade extended, slicing the air just inches from the first recruit's head. The poor kid had had no time to react and now was stumbling backward in alarm. Too late for him. "Dead!" She shouted, immediately spinning toward the next unlucky target. This time the recruit managed to raise their sword, but their stance was weak and their grip just as much so. One, two, three jabs with her weapon and his blade had been knocked clean out of his hands. Her blade held still for a second, an inch from his neck. "Dead!"

By now the other two recruits had managed to pull themselves together, and they attacked together. Their unified assault put Miriam on the defensive for the first time, but it was a short lived arrangement. She parried one recruit to the side, forcing them in front of their fellow's way. The one behind was forced to step back, leaving their partner alone to face Miriam's sudden renewed assault. A moment later their feat were out from under them and with a single swish just inches past their chest she gave a resounding "Dead!" Now there was but one recruit remaining. The kid hadn't wasted his time though, while Miriam had been knocking down his fellow he maneuvered to place his weight behind his blade in a single charge. Miriam moved to parry the attack, to use his weight against him, only to find her footwork impeded by body of a previous recruit on the ground. Loosing balance and quickly running out of time to parry properly, Miriam pushed back against the soldier. His blade went wide, but the timing had been off. Miriam had received a cut to her cheek.

"Ah- sorry princess!" The recruit apologized as he realized he'd cut the face of royalty. What he got in response was a sharp Thwack to the head from the butt-end of her weapon. "Dead. Don't apologize on a battlefield you panzie. All of you pick yourselves up and get your sorry selves out of here. I'll be letting your instructors know you need extra training." Miriam turned away from the recruits, wiping sweat from her brow. She'd been holding a lot of training sessions lately, it was one of the few things that could distract her from worrying about the news she'd just recently received. An invitation to a ball and the knowledge she was about to be married off to some prince of a different kingdom. She wondered what her life would be like after it had happened. What kingdom would she be living in? Would she have to fight for a nation other than her own? Would she be able to keep up the life she had for so long? A lot would rest on who she was to be married too. Miriam wished she had been told in the letters, but for now all she knew was that she would meet her groom to be at this ball. Hopefully who ever he was, he wasn't a wimp.

 

[.V1LLAINISM._]

~ C O R D E L I A ~



Location: Western Castle
Mention: Arcanist
Tags: Silver Wolf

The sun, in all of it's fiery spirits, draped comfortably atop of the horizon, as expected from a particularly glorious afternoon. And yet, despite the great serenity found within the picturesque scene, nervous beads of sweat began to conjure behind a young princess's slightly disheveled fringe. Curse her anxious heart! Though, to be completely fair, the reason behind her sorry state wasn't completely in vain, no. Unfortunately not. For, in but a day from now the young Cordelia would be traipsing on to meet the very holder of her future. A young man she knew very little of, and yet, was absolutely terrified to meet with in person. Mainly due to the fact that they were supposed opposites, scary as it sounded. And as such, the brunette's young & budding mind was racked with what if's and if so's, worries & fears. For, she just couldn't seem to fathom it ending well, not when they were so set apart. For, oftentimes, opposites did not attract, no matter how many times the saying was spoken. Sometimes it just didn't make sense. And Rory, being the overthinking, over-worrying and over everything person she was, feared that that may just be the case for her and her husband to be. Although she sincerely hoped it wouldn't.

However, despite her overbearing anxiety, and the fact that her mind was filled to the brim with highly unattractive possibilities, the young princess was still that of an obedient and responsible one. Therefore, she had spent majority of her day packing away for the aforementioned journey, sifting though necessities & memories all the same. Why she'd practically ravaged her poor wardrobe, leaving behind only the sub-par looking pieces. After all, Rory couldn't have herself appearing as anything less than a princess, just as her parents had said, time and time again. Though she wondered, wondered if behind those stoic and dismissive faces, if they actually cared that their children were to be wed, if it meant anything more than a transaction, a transaction for the sake of peace... She doubted it.

But at least she had her brothers to depend on, well, as much as Alaric & Eliot would allow, that is. The former being slightly more reclusive- even in pertinence to family. Although she couldn't exactly blame Al, for the mere thought of ruling with father's eyes on her at all times had sent shivers down her spine and had brought a sour taste to her mouth. It was a wonder how the king-to-be hadn't grown into anything worse, truly. In fact, as much as she disliked to admit, the two were practically the same person, only, different in the way they handled situations. Why was always the leader and she, well she was the follower. And Eliot was the complete opposite, a trailblazer as they say. And she favored him for that, for his rambunctious ways and vibrant personality had brought life into the dreary castle of theirs, just as Alaric had brought order. The two truly couldn't be anymore different. And yet she wouldn't have them any other way.


After putting away the last few items, Rory sighed in great relief. For, now she had one less a thing to worry about... For now at least. Regardless, her entire day had gone by in strategically placing her clothes in such a way that her carrier wouldn't burst open (it had happened a few times already), and of course, dwelling upon her first meeting with the prince. Apart of her was hopeful, but knowing her luck, things would go bad very quickly- if not straight off the bat. The princess inhaled shakily, at least it would be interesting. And so, straying from her messy chambers, the wide-eyed brunette began to wander aimlessly through the large and empty corridors. socked feet padding against the cool marble in haste. Why, she was in search of Eliot, courtesy of their ongoing tradition- their afternoon tea time. They would invite (and often had invited) Alaric but he was never one for tea nor chitchat, unfortunately for them. Nevertheless, the youngster was in great need for comfort and who better to provide that than the castle's clown himself?

Knocking on his room door, the young woman poked her head through. "Eliot? You there?" She inquired softly.

​

 

[rakshasa]

Azriel


Location: Eastern Palace
Mentions: Arcanist , Reiia silver
Mood: Deep in thought
Crown: x

The sun shone brilliantly over the Eastern kingdom, blinding in the midday sky without the cover of clouds to muddy it. In the countryside, flowers swayed peacefully as a gentle zephyr swept by, accompanied by pollinators. On such a tranquil day, even the bees and butterflies seemed content to let themselves be carried by the breeze between journeys to the next fragrant bed of flowers. The perfect mosaic of blossoms and fluttering insects carried on unnoticed by the young man ambling through them, face wrinkled into a concerned expression that contrasted the crown of flowers lying atop his head. “A pleasure to meet you, m’lady..” He whispered under his breath, holding his hand out for no one to grasp. He grimaced, following his remark with a frustrated “No, that’s not right!”. Azriel didn’t seem to notice the picturesque scene he was surrounded by; his mind was somewhere far off in the future as he prepared to greet his new wife. “So wonderful to meet you, dear… hmm..”

Indeed, it wouldn’t be long until he would meet for the first time the woman he’d be spending the rest of his days with. It wasn’t an ideal love story, he would much rather prefer to meet a woman naturally, grow closer to her over months of sweet dates followed by nights of secret-sharing and hand-holding, but as his father and his grandfather had also been married to women they barely knew, it was simply tradition. It was his destiny, it seemed, to marry a girl for peace and politics rather than love. It was the burden he had to bear as a member of royalty. He tried his best not to think of what life could be if he was granted a little more freedom, but as the eldest prince of his kingdom, his life seemed to be set in stone from the moment he was born. What he could do was make the best out of the situation he had been put in. He’d be content to quarrel with his old man over this if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation.

“How wonderful it is to finally set my eyes upon you, dear…”

Whatever reason the kingdom had to withhold information from him on his bride-to-be was lost on him. All he’d been told about her was what his father told him about every woman he would meet, regardless of her true self; she’s a sweet girl, she’s such a beautiful girl, she’s a nice girl. Her persona was still a mystery to him, though he had heard the castle’s ladies in waiting muttering about their compatibility whenever he walked by. Needless to say, their remarks were not informative. There were one thousand things he could be considering, what the wedding would be like, whether they were a good fit, her habits, her interests and pet peeves, if she was shy in the sheets and the possibility of her granting him children; he brushed the last thoughts off; there were things he would have to worry about before that. He'd consider things one at a time, one after the other's done, for now.

Atypical of the prince, he had packed his bags the night before to avoid a rush before leaving. Despite the impulse to do the opposite, he felt an obligation to be more of a responsible influence on his younger siblings, who’d also be married off to strangers. He was worried his sweet, sometimes naive little sister Hana would be ill-prepared to marry; it made him sick to imagine her being forced to mature by all of this and end up in a loveless, miserable marriage. Meanwhile, he worried more for the woman who’d be married to his younger brother Vangelis and how he would treat her.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, it occurred to him that on his morning stroll to talk to the peasants of the countryside (where he had received his crown from), he’d ended up back at the village surrounding the palace, at the same time his brother had made his way home from no doubt another one of his infamous nights of debauchery, possibly his last considering the circumstances. With a smile he nodded to the serfs and knights wandering the grounds and broke into a jog to catch up to his brother, shouting his name and waving his arm to catch his attention. He eventually caught up to him, just as Vangelis opened the palace doors. “Brother! How are you this morning, huh? I didn’t see you last night!” He paused in an attempt to catch his breath, at the exact moment his wild little sister came through the west corridor, losing her footing and tumbling to the ground before him. He had no time to catch her before she was a crumpled mess at him and his brother’s feet. He simply bit back a chuckle and smiled at his sister, “You alright, dear?” ​

 

[Silver Wolf]

Eliot

Location: Western Palace
Interactions: Rory ( .V1LLAINISM._ )
​

The entire set of news was something Eliot opened far later than most would guess. He grinned at every word. Not because he was excited for the prospect of marriage, but because he was snickering as he read the letter. The naivete of the entire plan struck him into a fit of stupid laughter. That was just last evening, since then he had packed his stuff, including a pair of sunglasses. He had no idea why, it just felt right. The reason the entire thing was naive is because he could see it for what it was. A political tool for peace, and that peace would only last them three generations at least in his mind. It wasn't that he didn't want peace, the bastard prince just believed it to be the wrong method. He knew what marriage could and couldn't do from watching his unfortunate life play out.

Eliot wouldn't deny the importance of family, he loved the members who he got to know and treated him well, but the entire plan Queen Jade was pushing out was a stupid one. Family wasn't a cure all, and it could do little to mend the wars. If all the kingdoms' founders lived as a family at one point, coming from the central kingdom. Then the recent war should be a testament to how fickle the bonds of family are. Eliot didn't exactly see his whole family without an intent to stab, especially his father. The Western King was a foolish man, a man who could lose the entire kingdom in one game of poker. The man played safe at the worst times and put all his eggs in one basket. Perhaps the only good thing to come out of any hate for his father was that Eliot didn't want the throne. Rather, Eliot would keep himself off that oversized chair by any means necessary.

The news was shocking though. The prince wouldn't deny that. He had always seen himself to have more political freedom than any aristocrat in the kingdom. Who cared about the bastard prince after all? It was a blessing as much as a curse, and he wanted dearly to make it a full blessing. His actions sometimes helped little, and the morning showed. Last night had been its own adventure. Some knight apprentice he knew had finished his training the other day. That led to ale and harder spirits being tossed around the barracks. Eliot had managed to get back to his room before the last kicked in. Yet, when morning came he felt fine. After drifting in and out of sleep for what seemed like an eternity, Rory had come knocking.

A bedhead shot out of the right side of his head and his clothes were a mess. When Rory peaked her head through he grinned, almost as if he still had some liquor flowing in his system. Yet, it manifested into a honest sleepy smile as he stated, "Ah, good morning Rory."

Clearly he only gained clarity moments ago, and if the time of afternoon was anything to go by, he clearly hadn't bothered leaving his bed or pulling his curtains. "Apologies for my sorry state. Last night was rather fun," the prince said pulling himself to be seated. A glass of water that had been left by a servant was swiftly downed in several long gulps.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Maya
Southern Royal Maid
Training Grounds, Southern Kingdom
Morzone​

Being a Southern Maid had its perks, particularly when endowed by the Princess's asserting will. Ever since Maya became a maid, she grew up alongside the zealous Miriam, partaking in most endeavors that the latter had willed it to her. It was Maya's job to exercise restraint in Miriam's presence. When one spends enough time around the energetic woman, they tend to pick up on her habits - to emulate her style and the likes. Strength and honor was the Southern tradition, but Maya found her strength behind the curtains. How quickly they forget, that behind every capable figures, were an array of individuals that were trained solely for the purpose of covering their liege's flanks. Like that of the battlefield, a maid must be sharp and attentive. The all-knowing, and the all-seeing. And it was up to their master's leadership to guide them through. A master and maid relationship was more or less a respectable relationship here in the south. Traditions and the respect presided over that of status. Earnest and forthcoming demeanor were rooted deep in the southern heartland, as it was with Maya's upbringing. Miriam was such a case. Where she preached of strength, Maya acknowledged it to be her way of trying to protect rather than instigate a conflict - evident in her combat methods of never delivering the killing blow.

As a maid, Maya was expected to analyze, but never assert her decisions. To be a coursing stream, but must divert courses where riverbed rocks stood. And like the water, she will wear the rocks, but never break it. A maid's training is arduous and challenging. Knowing when and where to fit one's self into the setting like a matching puzzle piece could prove pivotal in precarious situations. The advocate, the mediator, and the faithful, the tenets that create the maid. They must be everything and nothing at all times. These principles were molded and tattooed into Maya's heart and mind since a young age. She sees herself not as a simple caretaker for the Southern royals, but an ardent attendant. Ever since Miriam had picked up her naginata, Maya watched prudently from the curtains. Learning and training to protect her master were a necessity. And in it, she developed a certain overly-cautious personality.

The day progressed like the usual, and like the rest of the court, Maya had lent an ear to the recent news of the upcoming arranged marriage between the kingdom. Perhaps then, the world would know peace. But the human nature was only two teaspoons shy of a disastrous recipe for conflict. Maya was but a chess piece in the world of bureaucracy and politics. She had already made her pact since the day she put her hands to rinse the molds of the cellar chamber - to aid Prince Vern and Princess Miriam unto the sunset. As she perceived it, the sun had yet to set on the Southern Kingdom. Maya made her way out of the castle, with a basket of refreshments tucked in her arms. It did not take long for her to locate Miriam, the latter's roaring voice was hard to miss amidst the kicked up sands of the training grounds. Beneath the blazing day, stood a the less-than-stellar Miriam, whose cheeks were marked red with a light cut that matched that of her fiery gaze and hair. Maya had arrived just in time for the next relay to be called up. But even a warrior needed something to quench the thirst in the scorching heat, let alone an untended cut.

"They've got a cut on ya, your highness. Far from a decent batch, but commendable, wouldn't you say, your highness?" Maya remarked, curtsying elegantly with a smile.

"I've brought ye refreshments, your highness, lest the heat and odd day's relay rob ye of decent respite. Wouldn't want yer future Prince to faint at the sight of blood on your face, would ye? Come, your highness. Allow me to see to your cut." Maya said jokingly, letting down her basket as she withdrew a small vial of ointment from her attire's sleeves.

Maya applied the ointment, and applied the wound proper with a small patch of clean cloth that was dampened with alcohol. The bleeding stemmed, and the cut cleansed. She then unveiled Miriam's meal from the basket. A hearty smoked beef, whole-grain sandwich with complementary vegetables and pickles, laden with southern dressing and sprinkled black pepper. Next to it a jar of orange custard, finely conjured by Maya herself and iced since the early morning. Lastly, cactus juice to water it all down with coconut jelly and dried dates and figs. The maid helped Miriam to her meal, as she emptied the nearby table of weapons, drawing towards her with speed, did a quick turn and conjured an immaculate tablecloth from her maid apron's pocket, covering the table and laid out Miriam's lunch.

"Courtesy of the chef, your highness." Maya said, tucking her hands together above her waist, as she stood by Miriam's side.

Although most of the work was hers, the chef only partook in the wrapping and ingredients procurement, but even Maya herself was cautious enough to oversee the entire process. For the castle chef, nothing was more scarier than having a certain maid giving him a courteous smile, all the while glaring at him with her wide amber eyes that glowed in the shadows like that of a nightcrawler in maid attires. But Maya digress. Such was her nature of work. Unlike others, she had been careful to select the proper meal for Miriam, knowing the latter would be exercising her strength in the field. Alcohol would hinder Miriam's training process, big meals cause food fatigue, and sweet supplements of jelly and figs were essential to regulate sufficient sugar intake, while not spiking Miriam's blood. All her choices of the Princess's food were one of great contemplation and care. Even now, Maya possesses a list of proper meals and refreshments - all prepared many days ahead. An attendant by profession, and a formidable aide for every occasion. Manners made maids, and Maya is only a face among the ranks of countless others. Maids were a force to be reckoned with, a master's weapon in form of elegance and meek guise, so concluded the "Principles and Etiquette of a Household Sentinel" - the Southern housekeeper manual that is engraved in every maid and butler's hearts and minds.

"A maid is a blade. The master's will - their purpose. The instrument and the hand. A masterful hand will make a mark in history, while a well-tempered blade facilitates his strength. Manners and rules maketh gentry and nobility. Discord and ignorance breeds chaos. Take heed your blade and your hand."

~The Principles & Etiquette of a Household Sentinel; The Maid's Mantra
​

 

[Morzone]

Adrian Aylian
Royal Knight of the North
Diphylleia grayi
​

It wasn't Adrian's usual day. Normally he'd wake up early for some training before he gathered with the other knights for breakfast. The rest of the day was usually either more training, or accompanying one of the royal family as they went about their daily duties. No, today the capital had received a sudden visit from a host from the middle kingdom. Breakfast had ended early as Adrian and the other knights had stood guard and honor for the arriving guests. Perhaps for any other knight, the most they could have received after watching the procession were rumors flying around as for their reason of visitation. Adrian's role was different however. As the Middle kingdom host and the Northern Royals had discussed their matters, Adrian had stood guard outside the door. he wasn't normally one to listen at keyholes to hear juicy gossip, and for once he didn't need too. Soon enough raised voices came from the room in all tones. Shock, anger, delight, relief in varied measures rose and fell as the talks continued. By the time the host from the Middle Kingdom left, Adrian knew exactly what was going on: The two daughters and only son of the Northern Royal family were had had their marriages arranged for them. They would be wed to royals of the other three kingdoms in order to bring about peace between the four nations. Soon every royal family would convene in the middle kingdom to properly meet their planned partners and prepare for the great wedding.

Less than an hour later, Adrian found himself outside in a secret corner of one of the back courtyards. The unique sounds of steel on ice rang though the area as the royal knight sparred with one of his most common opponents: Lady Minerva of the Royal family. The two of them had sparred often. Adrian personally attributed his position in the Order of Royal Knights to his matches with Lady Minerva, though even if he hadn't been raised to such a rank, his time sparring with her would still be some of his greatest moments during his career as a soldier in the Northern army.

Normally their matches were held during certain times of the day, when they were had the lowest chance to be discovered. A member of the royal family regularly sparring some r random knight, well, one could only imagine the trouble the rumors could bring. Still, it was hardly surprising that Adrian found himself here right now, crossing swords with her. Anybody would want a distraction after receiving such news.

A stab, a parry, a thrust. Back and forth they went until suddenly Minerva pushed forward, over extended herself, and quickly lost her balance. Perhaps if this had been a real battle, Adrian would have taken the opportunity to smite down his opponent, but A member of the Royal family was another matter. Stepping forward Adrian spread his arms beneath her falling form, catching her before she could fall the earth. She was very close to him in that moment, closer than any Royal and Knight should ever be, and Minerva seemed quite aware as she stroked a finger across his chest and took in his scent. Adrian however, remained Stoic. Even during battle he always held a closed expression. He had long ago decided his own feelings would take a back seat to his duty to the Royal Family and so far hadn't found any reason for that to change.

"Well, well~ thank you, dear." Minerva thanked him. Adrian nodded, setting the Princess back on her feet.

"It is only my Duty, Lady Minerva." Adrian replied simply, watching as Minerva retrieved her dropped sword. Any sign of her momentary intimacy had vanished. She was back to her usually strong, unconcerned self.

"So, what's your thought on this? Is this marriage for the best?" The Princess inquired of him. He'd been expecting this question, though he wasn't sure how much Minerva knew that he knew. Not that it would really change his immediate answer.

"Peace is a wonderful thing. But as a member of the Order of Royal Knights it is not what I think that is important, but what you think. No matter what you and your siblings may think of this marriage, I will stand behind you. As I have done, and as I wish to continue to do."

 

[Morzone]

Miriam
Eldest Princess of the South
​

"They've got a cut on ya, your highness. Far from a decent batch, but commendable, wouldn't you say, your highness?" It was one of Miriam's Maids, Maya. A respectable Lady and one of the few with the strength to keep up with Miram's ferocity. "I've brought ye refreshments, your highness, lest the heat and odd day's relay rob ye of decent respite. Wouldn't want yer future Prince to faint at the sight of blood on your face, would ye? Come, your highness. Allow me to see to your cut."

Refreshments turned out to be healthy sandwich, cactus water, and an assortment of other delights. Perhaps a heavier lunch than one she would normally eat while in the middle of training with soldiers, but the princess was hardly in the mood to do things properly today. She ate quickly, speaking between bites. "They're lacking confidence. They expect nothing but defeat against me and do not try because of it. Even the smallest amount of success is too much unknown territory for them to handle." Miriam shook her head and went back to eating. She did pause once more though, in order to shoot back a quick remark, "And if my future husband were to faint at the sight of blood then I shall have to remind him what it means to be wed to the phoenix Princess of the South. The sight of blood shall be the least of his worries."

Soon enough her food had been reduced to nothing but leftover crumbs and a remark of pleasure. "Excellently made, as usual."

"Courtesy of the chef, your highness." Miriam nodded at Maya's reply, though she personally expected the chef had been no more than a trembling worker ant beneath Maya's watchful gaze. Grabbing her weapon, the princess returned to the field.

Several fast and furious minutes later, Miriam had laid out yet another group of soldiers. This group had been more tenacious than the last, their defense more formidable than those previous, but having no counter attack strategy they too ultimately fell to Miriam's onslaught. After a quick word wit ht he training captain responsible for the group, Miriam returned once again to Maya's side. She beckoned her to follow as she began to make her way out of the training fields and toward one of the castle's many side entrances. "Ms. Maya I have no doubt you know the Royal family shall be leaving soon for the Middle kingdom to meet our... future partners. We have been requested to keep out hosts small, so as not to overcrowd the the meeting grounds. A few Guards, a few personal attendants, that will be all that accompany us. I hold your services in high regard, Ms. Maya, As such I have made it so that you shall join us on during our trip as head Maid. There will be a few other maids and butlers as well, but I have no doubt you will be able to command them efficiently. Any ruckus that comes out of this situation shall not originate from any member of the South. Not from the Royal family, and certainly not from our servants. is that clear?"

 

[Pilgrim59]

Maya
Southern Royal Maid
Castle, Southern Kingdom
Morzone​

Maya attentively cleared the table and dusted off the tablecloth after Miriam was done with her meal proper. She could see Miriam's concerns regarding her fellow soldiers. While she does not outright say it affectionately, the Princess knew better as a warrior and a mentor to her men. Aside from her subtle remark of their granted fear of hurting their princess in training, let alone her feminine complexion, Maya picked up on Miriam's unspoken thoughts regarding the upcoming arranged gathering that would spell the fate of the Southern Realm. Rather, the fate of the entire world should these arranged marriages carry through. But Maya placed her faith in the hands that trained and raised her. She chuckled in amusement at Miriam's regard of her hypothetical future spouse. It was neither her strong determination nor her strength of arms that kept Maya around. Rather her personality that intrigues the maid so. Beneath the warrior, resided a thoughtful lady that yearned to do what she could. A testament of one to be entitled "The Phoenix Princess of the South". Personality will do, Maya contemplated.

"Experience is a tested mentor, your highness. A baptism in fire, and everything else will follow, I reckon." Maya inserted.

A swift clean up after Miriam was timely met when the latter quickly dispatched the next round of recruits. For others, it was a sight to behold, but for Maya, Miriam was simply a candid warrior. When the Phoenix retired from the sun-baked grounds, Maya followed, having returned the weapons proper to the table. She lent an ear to Miriam's voice as they made their way back to the castle. Maya needed not any excuse to remain with Miriam and her brother at all times, but to be recognized by her master was akin to that of a commissioned praise. Words, deeds, and anything else that pertains to being realized by the master's hand was a gift of trust and to some extent, a personal pact that nurtures their relationship. Maya took to heart Miriam's words. To be given charge of the other upper and lower maids and butlers was one of the highest honors a Southern maid could receive. The House Sentinel, Head Maid or Housekeeper, as one would call it, bore the responsibility fit for an honorable servant, of whom had distinguished themselves on occasions and deemed fit to command their own company of well-trained maids. But even with Miriam's entrusted words, the Principles encrypted in her training dictates humility and elegance. A gesture of humbleness and a poised determination to assure her liege's rightfully-placed charge. As the two stood in the Castle's courtyard, Maya narrowed her eyes with a slight sigh.

"This ineligible maid is unworthy of your praises and commission, your highness. Maya expressed. Even if she was elated to be able to accompany her masters to the capital of the Middle Kingdom, Maya stuck to her training and received Miriam's words with a hint of modesty.

"However, your will is my commandment. I have served, and I shall be of service, your highness." Maya addressed Miriam with a curtsy, this time lower than the rest of her previous ones.

As she rose, Maya was now an ordained Head Maid. The maiden counterpart of being knighted. The House Sentinel of the Southern Kingdom, but foremost the adjudicator of the Southern family's will. She shall not fail, Maya told herself. As ardent a maid as she was in the past, it was time for Maya to take the step given unto her to honor her predecessors. Known by names and deeds, but not by personal sentiments, Maya must now cope with her new position and make sure that her masters are presented proper. This time, the entire Kingdom's name and honor was on the line. The perpetuating game of checkers had now taken the form of a four-way chess game, and Maya now stood as the South's bishop.

"... a House Sentinel is an honorary title and a pact. As a man knighted, as it is to be selected as Head Maid. To be made a Head Maid, one bears the responsibility above and alongside their kins. Etiquette dictates a gesture of humble expression, a low curtsy and an ascertained pledge to honor one's liege with dignity. The recipient of the title must undergo proper transfer of management and duties. Citations of candidate selection and companions must be made with careful consideration, as to ensure an eloquent transition of power and capable hands to aid their master's future endeavors..."

~The Principles & Etiquette of a Household Sentinel; The Sentinel; Act II

​

 

[Arcanist]

Vangelis, Prince of the East
Location: Palace | Interaction: Azriel ( rakshasa ) Hana ( Reiia silver ) ​

From behind him, Vangelis's own name reached his ears. Had the woman really chased after him? Or God forbid, was it her father that had found out of their passionate night and was here to enact vengeance upon him? The thought troubled him, for he thought he left quickly and quietly before he could be spotted. His speed had increased, about to break into a jog himself through the palace doors should his theory prove true. A quick glance behind him alayed his fears, however, when he noticed his brother waving his arms frantically at him to gain his attention, and soon, was by his side. Much better than a man far taller and buffer than him to teach him a lesson for his debauchery.

Vangelis could only give a coy smile to Azriel's greeting. "As fresh as a daisy, dear brother," he responded. Or, well, felt as fresh as one. He'd admit, getting back into his clothes from the day before left him feeling uncomfortable and with a strong urge to throw himself into long, well needed bath. But suppressing that disgust, he couldn't help but tease his brother. "You didn't? My, your eyesight must be getting worse, or else I'm simply too elusive in those dark hallways of ours," he winked. Though, before seeing Azriel's reaction, he heard a thumping, and was alerted to their sister, Hana, having collapsed at their feet.

"Oh, Hana," Vangelis couldn't help but tut, finding himself in quite the teasing mood this morning. "As clumsy as ever, I see. Must have been preoccupied by your thoughts..." He murmured, though, not being incredibly heartless, held out his hand to her, an offer to help her onto her feet. He couldn't blame her if she was preoccupied by certain thoughts. All three of them had been roped into this arranged marriage, and not even Hana could be spared from it.

 

[Mooniee]

Lynette
Youngest Princess of the North
Location: Palace Garden
Interactions: Silver Wolf (Argenix) Daniel Reaving (Viara)
​

Lynette nodded along as Viara spoke, giving her advice. She did have a point. Lynette tended to get so hung up on every little detail that she often forgot to look at a piece as a whole. Her focused expression shifted to one of excitement as the maid complimented her work. “Really? You think so?” She beamed up at Viara from her seat in front of the easel. Although, she felt that Viara was greatly exaggerating her artistic abilities. “You can have it if you’d like! If I ever finish it, that is,” she added sheepishly. Many paintings went unfinished because they hadn’t met Lynette’s standards. If they weren’t absolutely perfect, she scrapped the piece and retried. Still, her mood had been greatly increased by Viara’s words. The servant always seemed to know what to say to brighten Lynette’s day. Perhaps it was because they had spent so much time together? The girls did tell each other everything, after all. It was only natural for Viara to know what cheered her up.

Instinctively, she closed her eyes as a rag was placed against her face. The cloth gently cleaned her cheek, so gently as to not even leave a red mark from friction. Her face was cleaned of the lavender paint that had been displaced in her earlier exasperation. As the maid took a step back, Lynette raised her fingers to her once stained cheek. When her fingertips came back free of paint, she gave an enthusiastic, “Thank you!”. She took a moment to follow Viara’s advice. Try to look at the painting as a whole rather than minor details. Her eyes focused on the flowers planted behind the easel, observing their colors once more. Ah! Now she gets it! She had been so focused on trying to find the right shade of pinks and purples that she hadn’t noticed the many other colors found. Determined, she once again raised her paintbrush. Right as she was about to press the bristles against the canvas, a voice sounded behind her.

She turned her head to meet her older brother’s gaze. In an instant, she was out of her chair and practically bouncing towards her sibling. “Argy! Hello!” She called out as she threw herself and wrapped her arms around the man. By her tone, one would think she hadn’t seen Argenix in a decade. Truthfully, she just was excited to see either of her siblings, especially now. The prince’s smile comforted Lynette. Argenix’s strength was one of the many things she admired about her older brother. Hopefully, she would be even half as brave as him during these times. Surely, her older sister, Minerva was handling the news well too. If her siblings could proceed with grace, she would have to follow suit.

As she pulled away from him, her hand brushed against the rough texture of his bandaged hand. Confused, she gently took his injured right hand into her own, observing it closely. With worry in her eyes, she asked, “Are you alright? What happened?” Usually, through overhearing the whisperings of various servants, she knew about any accidents that happened around the palace. Why hadn’t she heard of her own brother being injured? She usually heard of such things during her daily late-night stroll through the palace hallways. Well, she preferred to call them strolls rather than sneaking. She visited common locations of the many servants working in the building: the maid’s quarters, the kitchen, really anywhere that would be suitable for gossip. It wasn’t a becoming habit for a princess, but she couldn’t quell her curiosity! Besides, being the youngest of the royal family, she was mostly left out of any ongoings in the castle.

 

[Mooniee]

Vern
Prince of the South
Location: Erica's Room
Interaction: Reiia silver (Erica/Hana)​

The door clicked as the southern prince shut it firmly behind him. Inside the now closed room was a maid who carefully packed his items in preparation for their trip to the Middle Kingdom. Vern honestly didn't care what outfits were chosen. If he didn't like his clothing, it wouldn't be in his wardrobe. It was as simple as that. Most of the maids argued against whatever outfit he picked out so he might as well let them have free reign rather than sitting there bickering about what undershirt would be the most appropriate or what shoes would complement what jacket. All those minor details seemed unimportant to him and it was certainly not something he should be expected to take charge of.

The news of his marriage didn't bother him as much as one would expect. He would do whatever was needed for the betterment of his country. If that meant marriage, so be it. In many cultures, arranged marriages for members of the royal family were commonplace. It would be ridiculous to assume he was the exception. Although, he wondered how Hana had taken the news. They often sent letters to one another, though, by the time his next letter reached her, they will have already departed. He did worry for his friend. She had such a kind heart. Would it be broken by the news of her marriage? If she ended up with some sneaksby, would he be able to save her?

Nevermind that. He would find a solution if that problem even arose. For now, Vern had more important matters to attend to. One of those was pestering one of his elder sisters - Erica. At the moment, she was most likely hidden away in her room buried in some book. He really couldn't understand the appeal of reading for one's own pleasure rather than education. Currently, all the servants scurrying around the palace only wanted to converse about his upcoming trip and marriage in the Middle Kingdom. That was fine but Vern couldn't help himself from becoming absolutely bored at hearing the same conversations throughout the day.

As he approached the room, he was surprised to find the door already opened. At least that meant Erica was unable to lock him out. He poked his head into the room, seeing a maid conversing with his sibling about packing for their upcoming trip. "Good morning, sunshine!" He greeted, a wide smile spread across his face. His sister looked stoic as always and the poor servant was practically shaking in her boots, terrified of doing anything that might upset the princess.

 

[NightTerror]

​

"Have you heard the good news brother dear?" Orion asked, shoving his brother lightly into the wall with his shoulder. "Why, no, I haven't, oh brother mine. Please share." Aleksander shot back with the fakest grin on this side of the globe.
"Well...what I heard is that us two humble servants get to accompany the royals to the middle kingdom where they will meet their life partners." He held up his hand as if he was telling a juicy secret.
"What? A vacation you say, and with our favorite people no less? I'm over the moon!" Aleksander pretended to faint, his brother catching him in an equally dramatic fashion. "Do you think the dear royals will need help packing their things" He asked.
"Well we'll never know unless we ask." Orion replied lifting his twin back up onto his feet. "Shall we go?"
"Yes we shall." The identical butlers strode gracefully off towards the royal chambers, looking every bit the picture of sophistication and grace that they were absolutely not.
They arrived at the doors of the two princes and split up.
Orion went to the door of Prince Eliot and knocked, waiting patiently for a response; meanwhile, Aleksander stood in front of Prince Alaric's door and did the same.
Silver Wolf Arcanist

 

[Soviet Panda]

Otrygg silently observed the aspirants of the Old Guard during their early morning training, before the heat of the day set in. Hopefuls that wished to join the hallowed ranks of the Order were training diligently, mimicking the forms their instructor was showing them. On one side of the Order's courtyard, squires, those that had persevered their year long initiation, dueled each other, physically practicing the theoretical skills they had read about or been shown. Most were entranced by the sword, and most of the instructors were well versed in sword combat. However, a few were drawn to other weapons. These oddities were to be his pupils, his mastery over near every weapon, and his willingness to teach, made him a fantastic and close to hand teacher. Though he was the Lord Commander, leader of the Old Guard.

Today he had only a handful of students, all anxiously holding their chosen weapons close to them. Today they were axes, something he was very familiar with. He had allowed them to hack at the training dummies, the dulled blades of the practice weapons thudding and denting the wood. They were all hacking at trees, or splitting lumber, not an ounce of experience between them. However, those simple skills were the foundation of axe combat. Of course there was more to it, such as deciding how to hold the axe, either for more control or more power, when to step into a strike and deflect it with the haft, or feint back and away to exploit the over swing. So many things to teach, but at least they knew the basics.
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The training had gone about as well as he expected. One aspirant had gotten frustrated with the repetition and needed to be reminded of his place, but otherwise the students had done what they were told. And for them, life would go on as normal. For Otrygg, however, it was about to change dramatically. During training, he had received a letter from the King himself, stating the he was to accompany the young royalty to the Middle Kingdom. And though he very much wanted to do nothing of the sort, his oath to the king prevented him from refusing.

He packed quickly, and before he knew it, he was done. But he had no where to be, the prince and princesses most likely not even having thought of packing yet. With a great sigh, he left his Order's Chapter House and made his way towards the Royal Palace. He'd wrangle up the three and force them to pack swiftly before shoving them into a carriage if he had to. The sooner this was all said and done, the sooner he could return to his Order.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Maya
Southern Royal Head Maid
Castle, Southern Kingdom
Morzone , Soviet Panda​

Maya had followed up on her daily schedule to look after the Phoenix Princess's needs. It was about time she checked up on Vern and Erica. But before she looked to them, a certain maid like herself hurried over to Maya and whispered into her ears.

"If you have no further need of me, I best go greet our guest, your highness. I shall accompany you later today for the journey ahead and some sweet tea. Your highness." Maya commented, doing a curtsy and saw Miriam off with a smile, before following her follow maid towards the castle gate.

When she arrived at the entrance, she spotted a figure cladded in fur and steel. Maya studied the man briefly. He seemed to be a man of war, his cold gaze filled with countless tales of ventures and his parted feet were stemmed into the ground with purpose. Surely, the man was not looking to the castle for mercenary work? Despite his elder complexion, the gentleman's coarse and rough attire, accompanied by his dogged aura were evident of his most unorthodox presentation here. A foreign, yet evermore astute composure. Something tells Maya that he was no ordinary man. It was best to not keep him waiting.

"Greetings. I am Maya, Head Maiden of the Southern Royals. May I inquire of your name and business this day, milord?" Maya and her aide greeted the elder warrior with a curtsy, smiling slightly, all the while eyeing him with purpose.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Otrygg stood patiently where he had been told to, feet spread apart and hands clasped behind his back. He did not feel like wandering around the palace, looking for the young nobility, when he can just have a servant lead him to them. However, the blazing day of the South did not agree with his fair complexion, fur cloak, and armored body. And by the time the Head Maid arrived, he was sweating profusely.

"I'd have thought you would remember me by now," Otrygg said to the maid that asked who he was. "I've been teaching both Princess Miriam and Prince Vern how to protect themselves with a weapon for who knows how long. But to remind you, I am Otrygg Styrksson, Lord Commander of the Aldor Waerd. I shall try to be more memorable in the future." A small smile turned the corners of his mouth up, hopefully conveying the joking mood. "I've come to make sure both Miriam and Vern pack things required for training, we are not going to stop training simply because we've gone to another Kingdom." He refused to let the heat bother him, but his red face and the beads of sweat showed that the heat was getting to him.

 

[Reiia silver]

interactions: Mooniee [Vern]
Mentions: none​

The last thing Erica had expected for some reason was her brother coming in at that point, she peered over at him with an annoyed look. She suspected he wanted to probably harass her for wanting to read or being different then him or their older sister. Although she was not a fighter, she could pin very intimidating especially to the staff. She was about to pretend he didn’t even walk through the door, but she was always taught not to ignore her siblings. If something different servants had taught her, that other people would come and go but her siblings would be there.

“Good morning brother dear…. What brings you to my ro--“ she was interrupted by the servant doing something that was irritating to Erica who quickly walked over there to swat her like she was a bug, feeling rather enraged at this moment. “Can you not do anything right?! I require my items to be folded very delicately, you should know by now how I hate my items just thrown in my luggage!” The girl quickly bowed and tried to fold the clothing nicely, before Erica once again grab them from her. “Get out of here! Now!”

The servant left, only too happy to be out of that mess which caused Erica to turn towards her brother. “Can they not higher competent servants who know how to fold clothing into suitcases?” She shook her head, the truth was she wasn’t normally this outrageous but she was feeling very stressed out as was everybody at this moment. “You’ve caught me at a terrible time, Vern…. I mean I can’t believe you are too happy to be getting married?” Her little brother, how he liked to flirt and things like that, she doubted he would want to be married at all.