The Vipers’ Nest: Evening has come!

[Shenanigans_SC]

Welcome to The Vipers’ Nest. The continuation of The Baroque Court RP (http://forums.sims2community.com/showthread.php?t=48353) by eternal_sunshine.

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/VipersNestTitle.jpg

The year is 1677, the food is delectable, the dress is grand, and the times carefree.

Or so it would seem.

Beneath the surface of grand balls, rides through the forest and leisurely strolls through the gardens, lies a web of deceit, malice, and even murder. Do you have what it takes to survive the court of the Baroque era?

The Palace of Light and Air is home to the royal family and their many, seemingly loyal subjects. The King’s last advisor, the Duke of Mollier, had a most unfortunate accident that lead to his death. Since then the many nobles of court (the courtiers) have been doing whatever it takes to acquire the King’s favor and become his new advisor. In the mean time, the King is content to seek counsel from his wife, the Queen Isabella, and his old friend, Duc d'Lorraine.

Though the game has changed slightly from the original, I simply could not top eternal’s description. The object of this RP is to make an aristocrat character, and then guide him/her into the position of the King’s Advisor. It won’t be easy, though. Other characters will be after the same thing, and might even try to get you banished from the Court, or have you stripped of all your titles and money, thus making you start all over again.

Secret alliances and backstabbing are part of the game. Not everyone has to want to be the King’s Advisor – you can team up and help people into the role if you want. The real courts of this time period were a teeming, infested viper’s nest of intrigue and debauchery. Have some fun with it!

The RP is set in the Baroque period (1640’s – early 1700’s).

NOTE: The word “courtiers” simply refers to a group of nobles that lives in the King’s Palace. Aristocrat and Noble are interchangeable words: they simply mean a person of great wealth or power.
The Roleplay:
Each roleplay day is split into thirds, the morning, the afternoon, and the evening. Each part of the day will last about four real life days. This will be adjusted as needed to allow everyone ample time to roleplay their characters. One roleplay day is considered a round.

Rules:
Follow all roleplaying rules of this forum.
All characters must be adults or elders.
Only a Duc or Duchess can become the King’s Advisor.
All RPs must have a minimum of 8 lines. You are encouraged to build conversations via PM then post them in the thread if need be.
Do your best to stay in the feel of the times. Remember, this is before electricity, running water, and automobiles.

The Rank & Titles:
Duc & Duchess – This is the highest level attainable in court. They have the most money, the best suites, and the most sordid past. Each character of this level starts with 80,000 livres, and a major scandal.
Comte & Comtess – The middle level of power in the court. They’re not the smallest fish in the pond, but they sure don’t rule the roost. Each character of this level starts with 60,000 livres, and either a major or minor scandal, decided by a randomizer.
Baron & Baroness- The lowest level of nobles in court. They are just beginning their journey up the ladder. Each character of this level starts with 40,000 livres and a minor scandal.
Untitled Characters – These characters have no title and are referred to simply as Mr. and Mrs. They may very well think themselves wealthy and important, but they’re nothing compared to the nobles with titles. Each character of this level starts with 20,000 livres and no scandals.

There are two ways to gain a title. You can buy a title, or be given a title from the King. It costs 80,000 livres to buy your way up one title.

Scandals:
A scandal can be either a minor scandal or a major scandal. (These are considered levels.)

Minor Scandals: These scandals have to do with flirtations, having relations with a commoner, dueling, and blackmail. If a scandal of this nature reaches the King’s ear, the character will be demoted one rank, and/or given a “morality fine” of 50,000 livres.
Major Scandals: These scandals have to do with infidelity, murder, treason and stealing from the King. If this type of scandal reaches the King’s ear, you are guaranteed banishment from court. (Members of the Royal family, and the advisor are the only ones exempt from this rule.)

When a new character enters the RP they are required to begin with a scandal. These are referred to as given scandals. The level of the given scandal depends on their title and rank. (See section above.) During the RP new scandals are sure to be born. These are referred to as created scandals. All these scandals, both given and created will be put into a scandal database. A created scandal will only stay in the database for one RP week, given scandals stay in there indefinitely. Each round (1 RP day) a randomizer will be ran and a scandal chosen. This scandal will make its way to the ear of Miss Mercy Flight.

Who is Mercy Flight? She is the court gossip, the court snoop. Each day she will have a scandal told to her. Depending on how the randomizer goes, it may already be old news to her. She will then alert your character that she knows their dirty little secret. It’s up to you to do whatever it takes to earn her silence as each day Mercy Flight has the opportunity to tattle to the King. So if she approaches you, it may be in your best interest to do whatever it takes to appease her. IF you decide to bribe her, you must PM me the amount of money you bribed.

Money:
It’s what makes the world go round. Money, and lots of it. Your character begins with a set amount of money depending on their title. There are two ways to earn more money. If it is suggested to him, the King may gift it to you. The other way is by visiting the Court Accountant (randomizer), in RP formally asking for the money. The request will be denied or approved formally in the RP. You can only ask for money four times, and each request is limited to a maximum of 20,000 livres. You must have two rounds between each visit to the accountant. The money is measured in the baroque French currency – livres.

Suggestions:
Every round the King will heed a suggestion made by either the Queen, or Duc d'Lorraine. (The decision is made with the randomizer.)
Suggestions will consist of:
- Granting titles- they can suggest you go up one title from your own
- Bestowing money – a financial gift of up to 40,000 livres may be given
- Demoting- they can suggest you go down one title
- Fining- a financial reprimand of up to 20,000 livres
- Banishment- if they get mad enough at you, you could be banished from court

The format: Each RP Day morning, the King will hold his morning announcements. This is when he will follow through on a suggestion given to him, and deal with any scandals that he has learned about. The afternoon and evening is free time for your character.

Gaining the Prize:
Once your character has been a Duc or a Duchess for four RP days, you are eligible to be appointed Advisor. Once you are eligible, you must get the Queen or the King's old friend to suggest you be appointed to the King. Once they make the suggestion, the King (a randomizer) will decide if he agrees. If the King does not agree to appoint you, you must wait another four RP days before the suggestion can be given again.

If the King does appoint you, congratulations, you’re the new advisor. As the advisor you now have the King’s ear and will be able to give suggestions just as the Queen and Duc d'Lorraine do. It’s time to pay back all those who helped you get to where you are. However, just because you’ve gotten the position does not mean you’re safe, or the game is over. If the king was to find out about a major scandal of yours, you will be fired and demoted to the level of a Comte. The position becomes open again for someone else to enjoy their moment of fame. If you become the advisor and are not active for two RP days,(roughly a month real time) a new advisor may be appointed.

Applications:
Though the palace of light and air is indeed grand, there are only fourteen suites available. So if you no longer wish to participate, please have the curtesy to remove your character from the RP to allow others to join. Do not be surprised if your character is banished if you have been inactive for a month’s time.

When you submit an application please include the following:
Name:
Title:
Age:
Bio:
Picture: (Does not have to be sim)

After you submit your application, you must PM me your character’s given scandal. This is the scandal they begin the game with, that will stay in the scandal database. You may not post an RP until after I’ve approved your scandal. Remember, the severiety of the scandal depends on your characters rank.

There are limited spots open so please be sure there is room for your desired rank.

If there are any question, please feel free to PM me.

[Shenanigans_SC]

The Palace and Its People

The Palace of Light and Air… A splendid French palace exquisitely decorated and lavishly furnished. To the north of the palace lies woods that are a popular place for people to explore, get lost, and simply enjoy time away from others. The stables lie between the Palace and the woods. To the south of the palace you’ll find the palace rose garden, fountain and maze. The maze is a popular place for young lovers to get some privacy. To the south east is the palace orangery, a wonderful haven for flowers of all types throughout the brutal winter.
The Palace Main Floor –
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/PalaceMap_MainFloor.jpg

The east wing is home for the higher ranking nobles and the west wing home to the lower ranking ones. “Salon” is a meeting place, weather it’s a casual tea, or a party thrown by a courtier, these are rooms for socializing. The Grand Salon is where the King gives his morning announcements. The Great Hall is a multi-purpose room for when the weather does not make outdoor activities possible. Practice fencing, play croquet, this room is large enough for most anything.

The Palace Upper Floor-
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/PalaceMap_UpperFloor.jpg

The upper floor is home to the royal family and the king’s advisor. It is not wise to step foot on the upper floor without an invitation from a member of the royal family.

The Palace Lowest Floor-
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/PalaceMap_LowestFloor.jpg

The lowest floor of the palace is where the servants spend much of their time. It is a floor most nobles never descend to.

~*~

The Royal Palace is home to many people. Here’s the few who’s names you need to know.
(All of these characters are not eligible to hold the advisor’s position.)

The King Edouard Auguste Louis Rotherham IV
Age: 42
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/KingEdouard.jpg

King Edouard is a private man who spends most of his time in his Salon, or in his private suite. He leans heavily upon his wife and his friend Duc d'Lorraine for advice now that his beloved Duc of Mollier is gone.
He is an NPC whos actions depend on a randomizer. The only people who have access to him is the Queen and his old friend.

Queen Isabella Rotherham
Age: 23
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/ProperIsabella.jpg

King Edouards second wife, she is often called the most powerful woman of the kingdom. It is a title that she enjoys living up to immensely.

Dimitri-Josèphe, Duc d'Lorraine (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1119204&postcount=70)
Age: 48
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/dimitri.jpg
The King's old friend, Dimitri, is quite opposite of the King in nearly every way imaginable.

Princess Adalita
The King’s only heir, she is a rebellious young lady. Sadly, Princess Adalita is no longer with us.

Baroness Mercy Flight (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1116664&postcount=13)
Age: "A woman never tells!"
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/MercyFlight.jpg

A message from Mercy:
"Why hello dear courtier, my name is Mercy. I have been around this court for many, many years. If your like me you get to know everyone well in time, whether they want you to or not. Now it is time to decide what your future holds; welcome to my game, my world. Do you wish to play?"

Prince Octavien Lahance (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1116723&postcount=16)
Age: 21
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y225/Mila_Muromachi/SIMS2/QueenIsabella/OctavienLahance.jpg

Octavien came to this court as an untitled man. Thanks to his luck in happening across the Queen when she was in need he found himself in her favor, eventually moving up the ranks to the title of a Comte. Though he does not have direct access to the king, his marriage to the princess makes him ineligible for the advisor’s position.

[Shenanigans_SC]

Active Characters
Ducs & Duchesses
1.Annelise De L'Orrine (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1117989&postcount=36) - 80,000 livres -rejoined Day 2
2.Amelie Du Polingac (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1119130&postcount=67) - 80,000 livres - joined Day 2
3.Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1023930&postcount=32) - 78,000 livres - promoted Day 3
4.

Comtes & Comtesses
1.Fleur Baisez-Corazón (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1116838&postcount=21) - 60,000 livres
2.Marie-Elisabeth Valois (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1137949&postcount=220) - 60,000 livres
3.



Barons & Baronesses
1. Roseline Taylor (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1116823&postcount=20) - 40,000 livres
2.
3.
4.


Untitled Nobles
1.
2.
3.
4.

Visitors
There are an unlimited spaces for visitors. However visitors may not be promoted.
1. César de la Vallière (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1136611&postcount=215)
2.Joséphine de la Vallière (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1138578&postcount=224)
3.
...

Servants
There are an unlimited spaces for servants. However servants may not be promoted.
1.
2.
...




~*~

Story Synopsis

Many scandelous things happen within the walls of the Palace of Light and Air. Here is just some of the latest...
(most recent listed first)

The morning of Day 2, there was an apparent attempt made on Prince Octavien's life by Marquess Federico Berini, one of the queen's past lovers. Later Octavien confided in Isabella that he framed the Marquess.

Duc d'Lorraine, Edouard's old friend has arrived to the Palace. He is to stay and give suggestions to the king regarding his courtiers.

Baroness Mercy Flight tripped and fell, shattering a vase that was a favorite of the first queen. She confessed to Isabella, and seemingly got rewarded with 20,000 livres for her honesty.

One of the guests attending the royal wedding was Marquess Federico Berini, one of Isabella's past lovers. He had saught her company, however Isabella enjoys the company of the newly crowned Prince Octavien more. This past night Federico inturupted Isabella's harpsichord lesson with Octavien, and caused a few problems between the two love birds. Marquess Berini was escorted from the upper floor, only after threatening Octavien Lahance.

The Princess engagement to Duc Silvius Peitou-Charentes was announced. Two days later, everyone was shocked to see Princess Adalita marry Comte Octavien Lahance instead. Rumors are flying about that the Princess' sudden change of heart was because her intended groom was seen leaving the room of Baroness Roseline Taylor the morning of his wedding. However, since the wedding, the Princess and Duc Silvius have been seen in each others company many times. The most notable of which Duc Charentes left his own party with the Princess on his arm.

[Shenanigans_SC]

Day 2 of the new year (Day 1 was in the previous thread.)

Edouard entered the Grand Salon with his wife upon his arm, and the newly crowned Prince behind him. Missing today, was Princess Adalita, a fact that left Edouard in a rather short supply of patience.

No sooner had he taken his usual place he demanded the nobles cease their endless chatter with his usual authoritive words. “The King Speaks.” Those words alone brought an immediate end to the ceaseless chatter. Just as quickly as the talk had stopped, whispers began to rise as many noticed that the Princess was not with the rest of her family.

“This morning I fear I must bring good news, and bad news. First, I shall take care of business.” A servant from the side met the King as he took a step down from his position. “Baroness Flight,” he called beckoning the woman to make her position known. “Our beloved Queen has brought to my attention that your honesty is a noble trait that should not go unrewarded.” He handed the Baroness a certificate. “Honesty is a trait I admire, and so it shall be rewarded with a sum of 20,000 livres.”

After allowing Mercy the appropriate amount of time to courtesy, Edouard began making his way back to his prior position, not waiting his arrival to continue speaking. “Since much time has passed, and I still have not found a courtier who I esteem worthy of the highest position of being my advisor, I have decided to open the position to those not currently in our court. I do expect that our numbers will soon be added to.”

Now that he was back at his normal perch, he continued speaking. One would have thought that his voice could not get anymore void of joy, however, it soon proved it could. “As I’m sure all have noticed, the fair Princess Adalita is not with us this morning. Something has come over her, I am hopeful that she shall resume her duties soon. In the meantime her suite is off limits, to everyone. No one is to enter her suite without my permission.”

With that final announcement, the royal family, minus one made their way out of the Grand Salon.

[Shenanigans_SC]

As the morning came, Isabella remained laying in her bed. Her eyes however were not closed. She had sought the comfort of sleep, for when asleep one didn’t feel any hurt or pain. Yet sleep proved to be the elusive fortress that she was unable to find. Instead she remained under her covers, content to stay there. Margret had asked her a couple times to rise, Isabella’s only reply was that she was not feeling well, and wished to stay where she was. Margret knew that something had happened with the Marquess as every servant privileged enough to work the top floor knew something had happened. However Isabella did not confide in her friend the true nature of her sudden illness. She simply couldn’t bring herself to utter what had happened. That she had become weak and fragile. She had a reputation to uphold after all.

Soon a servant entered and spoke with Margret briefly. Margret then walked towards Isabella’s bedside. “It seems you are not the only one who does not feel well my lady.” Isabella looked towards Margret with curiosity. “It seems the Princess has come down with something suddenly. She is too weak to stand.” The statement brought Isabella out of her daze. Though they had not been close, she still cared for the girl. Despite being in her night dress, she quickly made her way to Adalita’s suite.

Upon entering the room she made her way quickly to the girl’s bedside. She couldn’t fathom that this body that seemed to have the shadow of death over it could be Adalita. She had just been so alive and beautiful two days ago at her wedding. How could she suddenly be so ill? Isabella’s thoughts went to the unborn baby that Adalita carried. The young Princess was unresponsive to Isabella’s presence. There was no good Isabella could do for the girl, so she made her way back to her own suite.

She inhaled deeply. Before she did not wish to leave her room, but with the Princess being in such a horrid state, she certainly could not be selfish. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as the servants hastily began to do her hair. She scolded herself for becoming what she had. Yes, she had never felt so alive when in Octavien’s presence. the thought of never feeling the warmth of his embrace again pained her. But she still was The Queen Isabella Rotherham. And she would behave as much so, at least when it was her time to play the part before the audience of the world.

Her servants had done their job well, and soon Isabella found herself giving her appearance in the mirror one more pass over once again. Despite forcing herself into the royal mold, she could see in her reflection that she was not nearly alive this morning as she was the morning prior. She was certain those who did not care, such as Edouard, would not notice a single thing was wrong. However she feared if someone looked hard enough, they would notice her usually cordial smile was not nearly as wide today. If someone had reason to suspect, they would see she was broken. She wondered if the single someone who had the ability to see within her would dare to look.

Soon she left her suite, once again seeing Octavien and Edouard standing together. Edouard's face was heavy with concern, obviously for his daughter. Isabella kept her focus on her husband, as if she allowed her eyes to drift, she was sure the feelings of the night before would spring forth from the deep place she had just barely managed to bury them.

The mood was somber as the three of them made their way to the Grand Salon in silence. Isabella stood as her usual statuesque self while Edouard seemed to rush his way through the morning announcements. In seemingly record time he had finished what he had to say and Isabella found herself in her private suite once more.

[Fayreview]

The Baroness opened eyes, the new morning was there and from the package on her dressing table so was the gift she has ordered, helena however was not, Mercy did not begrudge her maid the freedom she deserved but she did wonder where she was.

She dressed swiftly and made her way to morning announcements, she had money bestowed on her for the destruction of the vase, she laughed inwardly at that fact, by the time she returned, it seemed Helena had also with a patch of Roses in white and a delicate pink, "my dear you have outdone yourself this time, these will be perfect" she took the spray of roses and placed it inside the vase from the package, it was a peach/pink vase with a cream banner around it with an inlay of white roses, acccompanying it was an urn in the same pattern, it was slightly bulkier with a lid, Mercy felt the Queen could put it to better use than the vase, however she saw the vase as necessasary. She smiled to herself as she constructed the note to accompany it:

My Dear Queen

Upon the understanding you did not require a direct replacement I have had these made for you as a token of my esteem, I hope you find these a suitable gift. I would also like to offer my wellest wishes for your Daughters, well-being. However she is a strong young girl, whom I am sure will return to health in a flourish.

Your humble servant,

Baroness Flight.

She, was going to dispatch helena with them but seing her struggle to hold the both on a tray she took the urn back and walked to the queens suite along side her companion, on her way up she way-layed a passing servant and had her accompany Helena to the door of the Queens suite with the gifts whilst she retreated down the hall, to wait for Helena, of whom she was rather protective, it was a big court after all...

((For the sake of nostalgia I saved Eternal's Avatars for the characters still in use...))

[Haylifer]

I nervously drummed the wooden windowledge inside my coach, waiting rather impatiently for the coachman to get a move on fixing the left wheel. Undoubtedly I was already too late, probably by days already. God only knows what had taken place at the Palace in those few days without my heroic presence. Trust my luck for matters like these to spring up in the most unfortuous of circumstances. Oh, damn it all. An extra zealous tap of my hand caused the wooden strip to dislodge itself, falling to the floor with a clatter. Sacrebleu, I cursed silently, picking up the rotten wood and superficially holding it back to it's original place, as if in hope it would perhaps secrete glue and repair itself.

"Zut, Monsieur. You break it, you pay for it." said the coachman's head, appearing in the opposite window.
"Comte," I mumbled under my breath. "It's Comte, not Monsieur."
Clearly the scruff had no regard for respect or manners. I waved him off. There was no time for menial matters like this, and if his carriage was as rotten as the dead, that was his problem. I had serious business at the palace. Not that anyone would be expecting me to roll through the grand entrance; for all they knew, I was on a mission of intensive wine-tasting to find the perfect grape for my vineyard. Which was close to the truth, although my vineyard was ruined from the cold snap this winter and I had no money or time to invest into it's maintenance.
"S'no good, this won't fix," stated the fool, waving one arm towards the wheel which had evidentially snapped clean in two. "Yer'll have to go elsewhere. I can't do nothing for yer today; or yer can wait three days or so for me to get a new wheel."

I cocked an eyebrow, donning my most sinister and intimidating glare. "Are you suggesting that I impose upon myself an even greater degree of late-dom, when this morning I have an urgent appointment with Her Majesty, the Queen?" Well, that was a small white lie. I had no appointment, but was certain the Queen would be more than willing to create one once seeing I had returned. The peasant shrugged, dislodging a fat flea from behind his ear. "She'll have off with your head, you know. Mon Dieu, she will. It's been a few days since the last execution. It'll be a big public event, and we might even keep your head on a spike if we can get rid of the fleas."

With a grunt that sounded closer to a squeak of fear, the cretin made a slow movement towards one of the two horses. Undoing the straps that secured it to the carriage, he handed me the reins.
"Take 'im. But I'll be wanting him back before sunset or else... else I'll..."

I smiled courteously, accepting the reins from him and chirping a "Why thank you, peasant. Au revoir!" With a brief yet patronising wave, I dug my heels into the side of the old carthorse and left in a cloud of trailing dust. Most impressive, indeed.

The horse was harder to handle than at first expected. Most of the ponies I'd had experience with were usually well-trained pedigree specimens with mild tempers and docile nature, hand-picked for those qualities. But this brute.. It was stocky and muscular, and it's hair was coarse, ruddy and covered in dirt. And the beast had a complete mind of it's own, speeding up to an out-and-out gallop as it realised it had freedom from the coach. No matter how hard I tugged the reins, the horses head remained solid. "Whey! Steady boy!" I called in vain, in some attempt to soothe the savage. At least we were heading the right direction, I thought, as we careened along the street knocking over the market stalls and spilling vegetables all over. The palace gates were drawing ever closer; perhaps if I could skilfully swing from the speeding horse and land on both feet, it would impress any courtier spectators. But alas, once more my luck ran short. The horse suddenly came to a complete and abrupt halt, spotting a juicy cabbage roll past. Unfortunately, I did not lose momentum and found myself still flying through the air at breakneck speed, and the palace wall was coming up with equal enthusiasm. I prayed that it would be one of those impacts of the likes where you don't feel the pain until a long time afterwards. No such luck. The pain was immediate and severe, and a dozen little pinpricks of black blurred out my vision. My last thoughts were hoping I hadn't broken anything serious, like my nose. What a state I'd look turing up at the Palace with a nose like a drunken brawler. And then I fainted.

When I came to, it was to the most vile, obnoxious stench I'd experienced since that filthy one-legged prostitute in Belgium. In fear it was her again, I snapped my eyes open and they soon focused on the grey wiry hair of some old hag. Oh hell, where was I now? The hag retreated a little, grinning toothlessly and clutching a bottle of brown substance. Ah. Smelling salts. I suddenly realised what I was doing, and that I still was very much late, except now looking much more worse-for-wear. I picked myself up shakily, brain reeling trying to come up with a way to explain this one off to the court. "Step aside, peasants!" I shouted to the gaggle of onlookers. "I have an important duty at the Palace to take care of. Now, after finishing the testing of our palace defenses," - I patted the solid wall - "I can officially confirm that our palace is safe from intruders." I puffed my chest out, recollecting any scraps of dignity I had left, and strode away from the scene as best as I could. This proved to be somewhat harder than at first thought, as my leg must have somehow been damaged with the impact, and I seemed to have gained a limp. Zut alors, I'd return to the court not only horseless but also a cripple and a royal mess.

There was no way I could be expected to use the main entrance in my current state. The whole palace would undoubtedly see me, ask questions which I couldn't answer and still retain a modicum of respect amongst my peers, and I would generally be demoted to Palace Fool Number Two, alongside Claus the Clown. No, I could not go through the palace gates. I leaned against the sturdy wall, musing for a few minutes, when the thought hit me like a courtier being thrown off a rogue horse. Myself of all people should know of 'alternative' routes into the Palace - had I not instructed various women to use them, almost every night since I became a Comte? Yes, the palace was riddled with secret entrances and tunnels, the nearest of which was only fifty feet or so from where I stood. I limped along the wall until I came to the gargoyle sculputre with three eyes, then took twenty steps outwards until I was amidst a coppice of trees. Between the two yews, there was a patch of ground which was slightly risen compared to that around it. I felt around amongst the leaves for a rusty ring of iron; grasping it, I gave it a tug and the trapdoor came open releasing a cloud of dirt. After a short coughing fit, I waved the dirt aside and climbed into the hole. Of course, it was only when I got down there did I realise how dark the tunnel was. Cursing, I fished around my ruined outfit for a tinderbox of some sort. Alas, I wasn't one for arson so never had that object on my person. I would have to proceed in complete darkness.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the occasional crunch underfoot and the constant scuttling in the background. Perhaps it was better to be dark; that way I wouldn't see what company I had, and the palace would never learn of my irrational fear of spiders. The tunnel felt as though it was getting endlessly deeper, and it showed no signs of rising again. To my knowledge the tunnel didn't exit in the cellar, but behind an ugly tapestry of some late monarch on the ground floor. I kept on, noting how damp and putrid-smelling the tunnel actually was. And I'd forced young women to use this tunnel often? No matter, they were only prostitutes. Eventually, my eyes picked up the first few rays of dim light creeping around the edge of the tapestry ahead. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, rushing to get out of the spider-ridden tunnel but hesitating just before I pushed the tapestry aside. Anyone could be strolling past, and what would they think to see a bedraggled, barely-recognisable fool stepping foot in the palace? They'd call the guards and have me executed, that's what. I laid wait for a few minutes, listening carefully for footsteps. None came, so I slipped out from the darkness into blessed morning light. I took a few moments to revel in the cleanliness of the palace around me, before sprinting as best as I could with my leg injury up the staircase to find my suite. All I could hope for was no room changes in my absence; it would be most humiliating to walk in upon someone else and expose myself looking in such a state. I could see the door to my suite now, and there was nobody else around - I had made it! Lady Luck had finally taken my side for once on this damned day!

"Well, if it isn't Comte Felix.." came a voice behind me. Oh, merde...

((Whew! Oh I've missed my Felix. So, as you can see, Felix is very much approachable and that bit on the ends open right now for anyone to step in. He would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else you saw him looking like a peasant covered in dust and tunnel-slime :D Oh and can I still use Felix's application from the old thread? Or will I have to repost it again here?))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: What an amazing re-introduction Hay. It's going to be nice to have him around again! You can repost your app if you like, or leave it where it is. Either way I'll just link to it in the characters listing.))

*edit*

((OOC: Quick comment to those of you who have been with me from the beginning in the old thread. I do not know if I will be able to link to the posts of the old thread after HP archives it. So if you'd like your application available, please post a "re"app in this thread, and I will change the links as needed. Thanks!))

[SwirlyHill]

(( Just a little note, I found a nice new picture for my charcter's headshot that doesn't have an icky watermark from istockphoto on it, it's infact a photo of Princess Grace of Monaco :) ))

http://royalchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/princess-grace2.jpg

Lilian awoke, rays of sunlight and birdsong lifting the young princess from her slumber.
She stretched before making her way to the vanity table to arrange her hair and apply her make-up.
Looking at herself for a while, she suddenly realised how very mysterious and dark she looked. Long black tresses framing a snow white face, dramatically interrupted by witchy green eyes and scarlet lips.
Pulling her hair into a simple yet elegant style (http://www.hairstyles.info/images/uploads/prom.jpg) before making her way upstairs, she couldn't help but feel safe and secure in this place, something she hadn't been for a while.
'I wonder...' She whispered to herself 'No...I couldn't possibly...'
She bit her lip, she did have such a sense of security in this place, perhaps, perhaps she could stay a bit longer...or maybe...
Blinking rapidly, she took a deep breath before straightening her back and continuing to walk, making her way to the Queen's private suite.
She knocked lightly on the door, her hands shaking.
'Your Majesty' She called softly 'M-might I be able to discuss something with you?'

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Nice picture Swirly. Just a little note... if you look at the Palace Maps (post 2 (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1116290&postcount=2) ) Lilian is on the bottom floor, so she'd have to go "up" to visit Isabella.

Usually someone would be a fool to go to Isabella's Suite without an invitation, but luckily for Lilian she has her title to protect her. ;) I will work on an RP and add it to this post shortly.))

*edit*
((As promised....))

Once inside the safety of her suite Isabella ordered a brunch brought up to her. She had taken her usual thinking spot by the northern window, looking out over the forest. The trees were a picture of death, their branches standing tall with no foliage to dress them. They looked like scrawny skeletons… Much like Adalita.

The thought had snuck into her mind, a most unwelcomed intruder. Isabella recalled how beautiful they had been with their hues of red and gold when she had found herself lost. When Octavien had rescued her. Not only had he rescued her from the humiliation of being lost in her own forest, but shortly after he rescued her from the golden cage of her crown, from lonely nights, and she had though from a lonely life. A smile snuck its way on her face, just as stealthily as the horrendous thought had earlier. She closed her eyes, images of him donning his mischievous grin replaying in her mind.

As she leaned against the wall, her thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock on the door. Isabella turned her head immediately wishing to see who it was. Had Octavien been able to put his mind to rest during the night? He had said that they’d talk later, rather than he wished not to talk to her at all. Her gut said he would seek her out, he just had to.

As the doors entered, she saw two servant girls, one of who didn’t look the slightest familiar. And that meant something as nearly all the servant girls looked identical to her. Isabella’s own servants took the beautifully decorated vases from the girls. “A gift, for her Royal Highness.” They announced.

Isabella’s eyes sparkled once again. The assortment of pink and white roses were absolutely breathtaking, so soft and delicate. The vase they were in, and its accompanying urn managed to not be outshone by the beautiful bouquet. The gift was truly marvelous. Her heart leaped at the possibility of them being from Octavien, however her head chided her for such presumptions. He had had no time since they bitterly parted ways last night to purchase such an extravagant gift. Logic stated that it simply couldn’t be from him. So who were they from then?

She reached for the note that accompanied the gift, she opened it gingerly and eagerly read its contents. As her previous smile faded, giving way to a much different one she looked at the gift with new eyes. The Baroness had chosen a vase to replace the one she broke, however this one was most obviously created with Isabella in mind. In a way the gift had been Baroness Flight’s way of acknowledging that Isabella was the current Queen, the one before her no longer mattered.

Isabella leaned in one more time to take in the glorious scent of the blossoms when there was another knock on the door. As a servant girl made her way to reveal who it was, the woman on the other side began speaking. “Your Majesty?” Her voice sounded as if something was wrong. “M-might I be able to discuss something with you?'

The doors then opened to reveal Princess Lilian standing at the door way. Isabella’s eyes blinked and her face bore a serious expression as she was most surprised to see her. “Princess Whitman”, she addressed the girl as she began to walk towards her. “Are you alright?”

[SwirlyHill]

(( Oh, sorry! *headdesk* Yeah, I actually paused for a bit and wondered whether or not to send Lilian to the suite, but in the end was kinda 'Hey, she's a Princess, go crazy!' Hehe <=) ))

[The Rev's Demon]

Name: Valary DiBendetto
Title: Baroness
Age: 19
Bio: Valary was blessed with good looks, not that she cared. Her attitude towards life is somewhat pessimistic, but underneath the sharp look, sharp tougne and possibly harsh personality is a young woman who believes being tough and sharp is the way to live in the world. Preferring the company of the black stallion she once had before her father went bankrupt, Valary is determined not to follow the ways of her father who wanted nothing but money, and make a name for herself at Court, whatever way she can.
Picture:

http://i185.photobucket.com/albums/x101/GeeWayrocks/aroughsketchofkagaribyrogner5thqd1.jpg

[Fayreview]

Name: Mercy Flight
Age: ;)
Title: Court Gossip - Baroness
Personality: "What can I say? Life is life and other peoples are so much more interesting. I can be sworn to secrecy... if we're friends or if there is something in it for me."
Mercy is very loud and insists it is the public's right to know, this point of view may have come from her deceased husbands constant affairs that she knew nothing of until his funeral. She at the moment lacks good friends, which she craves this makes her an excellent target for flattery, or occasional bribery.
Picture: (The magnificent Dame Judy Dench)
http://img2.timeinc.net/ew/dynamic/imgs/070328/dench_l.jpg

[SwirlyHill]

The Queen's expression troubled Lilian, but she could not turn back now.
The Princess curtsied, her jet black hair tumbling over her right shoulder.
“Princess Whitman”, she addressed the girl as she began to walk towards her. “Are you alright?”
'Oh, yes, I am most content, you are most gracious hostess' She replied softly, a hint of nerves about her voice 'Though, I was wondering if I might prey upon your kindly nature. I- I must face reality, I can no longer run away from the grief, I must stop at some point'
She took a deep breath and fluttered her eyelids.
'I...I thought that perhaps...I might...stay in this court, not as a visitor...but as a member of the household?'
'B-but if not' She added, flustered 'Do not worry, not at all...I mean, of course, I am being rather foward, I can assure you I will not be insulted in the slightest if you decline'

[AtropaMandragora]

Name: Octavien Lahance

Age: 21

Title: Untitled, to Comte, to Prince

Personality:
Octavien was a young man with a hunger for nothing more than fun and adventure. Unfortunately, this lead to quite a few precarious situations, and after having been seen leaving the bedroom of one too many married women, his parents sent him away from home, to the court, in the hopes of having him discover that there's more to life than just having "fun". And he did. He discovered power, and the perks of having friends in high places. Now he has his mind set on earning a title, one way or another, and although still a carefree thrill-seeker, he can also be a cunning, ambitious trickster. He's watching the aristocrats and learning what he can from them. And the higher the title, the bigger his interest. Thus, he has taken a special interest in the Queen herself.

Picture:
http://www.vintagestars.com/river/Test2/OctavienLahance1.jpg


And one (http://www.vintagestars.com/river/Test2/Octavien2.jpg) and two (http://www.vintagestars.com/river/Test2/Octavien3.jpg) more, just because. :P

[The Rev's Demon]

Valary's eyes fluttered open. Her room was cold, no doubt because she had left the window open during the night. She pushed back to covers of her bed, and swung her legs out, barely registering the dull thump her feet made as they hit the floor. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She wasn't going to miss morning announcements.

--------------------------

Valary watched as the Royal Family departed, mulling over what she had just heard. She hadn't been at Court long enough to really know Baroness Flight, but she knew who the Princess was, and felt slightly worried at her lack of health. Normally, she would not have cared, but something made her worry about the woman. She shook it from her head, and began to walk out of the Salon, the usually stony face of hers strangely thoughtful. A few strands of her hair were beginning to fall from their carefully prepared style, but she brushed them away impatiently, barely feeling them as her pale hand swept them into place. She stopped near a window, and looked out. The Palace grounds looked dead. The trees were nothing more than withered skeletons, shadows of their previous blooming form. The wind whistled angrily outside, and she turned away, careful not to trip on her long dress. She looked into the black folds, and lost herself in them, too lost in thought to notice anything around her.

((Approachable. And a little rambly from an unexperianced RPer, but hopefully I'll get better))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: A quick note to those who are around. "Baroness Valary" is no longer part of this RP. So please don't have your characters approach her, as she will not be able to reply.

Sorry Fayreview! I'm a bit late for Mercy's sake. :doh ))

[Fayreview]

((Well that's why pencils have erasers, and posts have delete options ;)))

[funheart00]

.Name: Roseline Taylor
.Age: 23
.Title: Baroness
.Personality: Being beautiful and outspoken, Roseline seems to attract a lot of attention. She wants to be as high up the social ladder as possible, and by any means nessasary, even if that means ruining another's chances. Her father was caught in a Major Scandal when he was a Duc. He was banished from the court, and his only daughter, the illigitamit Roseline was the outcome. She may be willing to do anything nessasary to reach the top, but after being shunned for being who she is, she would love to be included. She doesn't often talk about her home life, and it is rare that she opens up completely, but when she does she is fully honest.

.Picture:

http://i171.photobucket.com/albums/u294/funheart00/AA.jpg

(Sorry about the hair x.x Forgot to download some relevant ones before taking the piccitures .. xP)

[littlesunshine123xx]

Name: Fleur Baisez-Corazón
Title: Comtesses
Age: 18
Bio: Fleur may be beautiful, smart and hold some form of title. But she is not happy. Her life and every move she makes is controlled by her husband or parents. It is under her husband's strict orders that she remains in the court to improve his and her own status. Thus becoming closer to the King. Her husband has high hopes of achieving status and wealth, however Fleur strives only for happiness and some passion in her life. On the bright side her husband is away at sea for a long period of time, will this give Fleur time to enjoy her life.
Picture:
http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y44/odunican/barqoue%20court/19.jpg

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Wow funheart Roseline looks like a whole new sim!))

“Oh, yes. I am most content, you are a most gracious hostess.” The seemingly delicate woman replied. Isabella’s face then immediately switched from an expression of concern to an expression of curiosity. What did this visitor want, and why did she seem so fragile compared to the other day?

“Though, I was wondering if I might prey upon your kindly nature.” The woman’s choice of words brought a new feeling upon Isabella. It was one she wasn’t used to. If someone desired something of her, they usually had their subtle ways of hinting at it. It seemed the Princess was going to bluntly ask for it. No one had been so bold to do that since her meeting with Duc Silvius, and that hadn't turned out so well. But what could Isabella possibly grant Lilian that she did not already have? “I… I must face reality, I can no longer run away from my grief. I must stop at some point.”

As the woman took a deep breath Isabella continued to listen intently. She soon believed Lilian’s apparent nerves were caused by a hurt she had been hiding. Not so much unlike a certain queen she knew. “I… I thought that perhaps I might stay in this court,” she continued. “Not as a visitor, but as a member of the household?”

A slight smile came to Isabella’s features. It wasn’t necessarily cordial or comforting, it was the sort of smile she got when reminded of her position of power. “… I can assure you I will not be insulted in the slightest if you decline.” Lilian quickly added.

Isabella turned and began to slowly pace away from the doors, her delicate fingers tapping at her waist as she thought. The young Princess wished to stay in Isabella's kingdom, and not return to her own. Perhaps what she truly sought was a new life, one that did not remind her of the tragic accident her fiancé had died as a result of. What the woman really wanted was a new life, a new identity… a new title?

Having paced three yards or so from the Princess who stood just inside the doorway, Isabella turned, her answer had been prepared. “With his daughter in such a horrid state, I am afraid the King is not in his typical condition. But, I do think once the Princess has recuperated, perhaps I can mention it to him. I don’t see any reason why he would object.”

She smiled at the Princess Lillian, this time with a smile shining with satisfaction. This Princess had some odd ways about her, though it seemed she was smart. After all, she knew who to approach when she needed something accomplished, a fact that showed she knew who truly ruled the kingdom.

((OOC: Fay... sorry if Mercy takes insult to my last sentence. lol What can I say... each of our girls "owns" the kingdom. :p ))

*edit*
((Welcome littlesunshine!))

*edit 2*
Oh!! Someone please spot Felix!! (Isabella would... but alas... she's busy.))

[Fayreview]

((Shenan I'm too tired to even think about what Mercy thinks...What can I say recent events have made me wonder about my part here at S2C... But I'm sure Mercy wouldn't begrudge Isabella her 'dellusions' ;) ))

[littlesunshine123xx]

Fleur sat quiety at her open window. She softly combed her long curls as she gazed out of the window. There was a gentle breeze that hit her flushed cheeks. She day dreamed there was a world of excitement and passion outside that window. With freedom and happiness that she never knew. She sighed thinking of how delightful a life of adventure would be. Her dream was interuppted by a gentle knock at her bedroom door. Fleur lifted herself slowly from her chair and made her way to the door. Slowly opening the door, with curiousty across her pretty face. "A letter for you Miss" a servant said to her at the door, handing over a letter address to Fleur. "Thank you" Fleur replied and stepped back into her room.

She sat at her dressing table, carefully opening the letter. The letter was in small neat handwriting, it was unmistakebly her husbands Charles writing. She should have known. She would never recieve a letter of important or interest to her.
Fleur sighed boredly as she read the letter.

Mi fleur más querido ha sido tres semanas desde que i escribió por último. Usted no contestó a mi letra pasada. Fui preocupado. Cómo puede la confianza de I usted si usted no hace mientras que le digo. Espero que usted sea bien y que se comporta como usted debe. Conteste por favor a mi letra ESTE VEZ, yo se preocupan más de usted. Su marido Charles

Fleur frowned at the letter and ripped it up. She would not reply back, not yet anyway. She would let him worry a little longer. Still angry Fleur left her bedroom. She walked the highly decorated corridors, fanning herself along the way and smiling at passes by.

(approachable)

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Sorry it's taken me a while. Now I know what this 'real life' that everyone is always referring to actually is. :D

funheart - Aw, she's so pretty. :) )))



The Prince that appeared by the King's side this morning, to await the Queen by the grand staircase on the upper floor, was clearly a young man with a burden that weighed heavily on his noble shoulders. He was tired, yes, that much even a fool amongst fools could see, but what was more was that a small crease had formed between his fair eyebrows, looking as though it had been literally etched into the features that so rarely donned signs of anything but cordiality, attentiveness and dignity. The usual light in his eyes seemed to have been dimmed. It was evident that something was bothering him. Most were sure to attribute it to worry about his 'beloved' wife, whose health had been rapidly dwindling during the night, including the King. Only two knew better - that there was far more to the story than that, that it wasn't even the biggest concern on the mind of the young Prince - and only one of them was someone who he could bring himself to look in the eye. When Isabella left her suite and joined them, Octavien's gaze had grown quite attached to one of the many marble statues decorating the large hall in which he and the King had stood waiting. He was not yet ready for their eyes to meet, and for their silent communication to to commence. There were things he longed to say, but they were words meant for his lips, not mere glances to be given whenever a random opportunity presented itself. He did, however, manage to tear his gaze away from the statue just long enough for it to land on the floor just infront of Isabella, while he offered the slight, courteous bow that was expected of him.

Trailing after his mother- and father-in-law, down the grand staircase and into the Grand Salon, Octavien barely listened to what the King had to say for his morning announcement. He was quite preoccupied with his own thoughts. Given last night's disaster, he had realized that he would have to protect himself, and Isabella, from the detestable brute that threatened their safety, and their... 'friendship'. In doing so, he would have to use a language that the man could understand. And he knew just what language that would be.

Upon returning to his suite, he wasted no time. Time was of the essence, as he wasn't quite sure how serious the Marquess had been about his threats. Perhaps he was already on his way to request an audience with the King, or perhaps he was taking his time, to make the Queen and the new Prince sweat. Octavien hadn't looked for him among the courtiers that had attended the morning announcement, but he was sure he'd been there. After the pleasure he had taken in offending and insulting Isabella and Octavien both last night, Octavien couldn't imagine that he'd pass up the chance of trying to see what damage he might've done, nor did he doubt that the Marquess was the kind of man that would toy with his enemies for a bit before he struck.
Thus, Octavien went straight from the doors to the desk, where he sat down to compse a brief note.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Marquess Berini,

It appears we got off on the wrong foot. With your permission, I would like for us to start over, as I do believe setting aside our differences could prove most beneficial to both parties. Please find me in my suite at your earliest convenience so that we may discuss the matter further.

Cordialement,
Prince Octavien Lahance

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Keeping the note polite and devoid of the proper royal tone was pure torture, but in order to keep from provoking the reptile known as Marquess Berini, Octavien thought it best not to sound too demanding.
Let the man think he was grovelling.

"Gilles!" he called as he picked up the small piece of paper and waved it a little bit so that the ink would dry before he folded it once and handed it to the servant that moved swiftly to stand by his side. "Have this note delieved to Marquess Berini's suite immediately."

"Immediately, Your Highness", Gilles confirmed, and then quickly left the suite to carry out the order.

'Alea iacta est'.
No more than half an hour later, there was a firm knock on the door, and Gilles, who by now had returned to his master's suite, declared that the Prince had a visitor. Having waited on the bed, leaning back against the many and soft pillows, and reading a book to pass the time, Octavien smirked to himself.

"Please send him in", he said and snapped the book shut as he stood, leaving it on the bed to greet his guest over by the comfortable armchairs and the beautifully carved table that were all placed in the centre of his suite.

With a deep bow, Gilles retreated from the door to allow the visitor to pass, and in strolled a nothing short of nonchalant Marquess Berini; tall, dark, and wearing a smirk matching the one that only seconds earlier had curved Octavien's lips. Now, however, it was gone, replaced by a faint but polite smile, with just a hint of agitation. A move most intentional on Octavien's part. As long as the Marquess thought Octavien was ill at ease, he would feel like he was in control, and thus see no reason to be overly rude or threatening.

"Marquess Berini", Octavien said. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, take a seat."

And as the two men sat down to talk, Gilles closed the doors to the suite, cutting of the soft murmer of their voices to anyone that might happen to pass through the upper floor hallway.


(((ooc: Needless to say, he's not approachable at this time.)))

[Fayreview]

"Well, if it isn't Comte Felix.." Mercy laughed lightly. "I must say I am suprised to see you looking like this my dear Comte... But it is nice to have you back, at least I assume your staying because no one with a title like yours would return looking like that for a flying visit." She winked at the young man, taking a brief break from class boundaries afterall he could hardly object in these circumstances.

"Now how have you been in the time since you left us?" Mercy enquired of the young man, she had never known him well but she felt that was more of an over-sight on her part that more than anything else, after all he was, usually, an attractive and well presented man, she looked him up and down, even dressed like that he still looked good, in fact she had never seen dust and micellanious fluids made to look so good....

((Wow, Mercy ran away with me there.... Dare I say hopeless crush forming ;)))

[Haylifer]

I winced at the voice; there was no mistaking that silky trill. Fight or flight mechanism began to kick in - did I take my chances and sprint the last ten yards or so? Perhaps I could claim I had a gutter-dwelling twin, although even that would be detrimental to my reputation. "I must say I am suprised to see you looking like this my dear Comte... But it is nice to have you back, at least I assume your staying because no one with a title like yours would return looking like that for a flying visit." she winked.

"Baroness Mercy Flight," I beamed. My last resort was to try on the ole charm; maybe
the woman would be so stunned by my adoration, I'd have the chance to make a swift getaway. The urgent news I bore laid heavy at the back of my mind. That could wait until I had made myself presentable, I prioritised, but not much longer.

"Now how have you been in the time since you left us?", asked Mercy, eyeing my dirty attire.
"Busy," I replied "Ah, just moments ago I stood outside the palace when a putrid-looking theif attacked me. I suppose he was after my riches, although I never carry those on my person. It took but a few moments to overcome the scoundrel with my manly strenghth, but he appears to have left his traces of" - I sniffed a nasty patch of green - "Cave slime on my person." I fidgetted anxiously. Now was not the time for hold ups. But I couldn't disappear in a cloud of smoke without ensuring my white lie had been swallowed and digested, else the whole court may think me a sewer-dwelling idiot.
"But you, Madame, look even more radiant with every day. I do hope all's well?"

[Fayreview]

Mercy clicked her teeth together, "hmm well aslong as you are alright and safe now," she glanced him up down, she supposed it was plausible... But Mercy had other things on her mind she smiled at Felix.

"I myself am good my dear man, much better than the banished Duchess, and the rather ill Princess or of course her husband, Prince Octavien who must be going out of his mind with grief..."

Mercy paused for effect to allow these bits and pieces to slip into his mind, he may have heard about Marie, but that wasn't big news in comparrison, the details of the marriage between Octavien and the Princess would of course be common knowledge, and even if the reason wasn't she would not divulge that, the Queen had trusted her with that one. His brothers encounter with the Princess may be known to him but it had been hushed so again she would not approach the subject, however she felt she had given him some news in the way of Adalita's illness which would not have travelled far beyond the Palace gardens.

Mercy wanted to pass on the information, just so the newly returned Comte would realise just who really ruled this Court.

((Shenan sorry if isabella takes offence to that one ;) and Haylifer feel free to shoot Mercy down by telling her it's startilingly old news ;)))

*Edit*((Thanks Atropa, it's nice to know someone is paying attention to what I type... even if it isn't me :P))

[funheart00]

((ooc;; Thanks Shenan and Atropa; I didn't know who was really hiding behind there with a new skin and eyes... :blink: I'll edit in a little while with a half-decent post :)))

[Haylifer]

"I myself am good my dear man, much better than the banished Duchess, and the rather ill Princess or of course her husband, Prince Octavien who must be going out of his mind with grief..." said Mercy.

I raised an eyebrow, taking each new fact one at a time. Banished Duchess? Who? What for? I made a note to enquire about this piece of gossip at a later date, but it was the second part of the statement that sparked some intrigue. Or rather, panic. I'd heard of Princess Adalita's union with Octavien on the grapevine whilst on my hiatus, plus a number of other interesting rumours regarding her, but the word "rather ill" struck out like a fist. That fist must have knocked some sense back into me, for I remembered why I had risked life and limb rushing back to the Palace and my mission was not yet complete.

"Octavien's marriage?" I said, my voice a bit too high-pitched to be innocuous. "Yes, how unfortunate for him to be committed to wedlock so young. My dear Baroness, I'm afraid I really must fly now. I have some minor heroics to take care of." I bowed hastily, then disappeared into my suite. I had little time to lose, and an important job to finish. I had to see Queen Isabella as soon as possible; thankfully my manservant was faithfully waiting inside my chamber.

"Pierre, please get word to the Queen that I have returned and consequently must rendezvous with her urgently. Tell her it's possibly an emergency. And for God's sake, stand up a little straighter when you do so, you give the impression of a crooked charlatan."

I waved one hand at him impatiently as he scurried off, then collapsed down into a chair. The only reason I had not fired that peasant Pierre after all these years was his speed and efficiency at moving through the palace. In all other respects, he was a useless imbecile. Hopefully today his message would reach Her Majesty in time. I ran one hand impatiently through my hair, only to find it thick with dust and all other manner of horrors. Mon Dieu, I'd completely forgotten about my appearance! There was hardly time to bathe properly, but a change of clothes was vital.

I then found it proved impossible to concentrate on my actions, so I headed into the washroom, filling the basin with icy water and dunking my head into it. I recoiled a little as I felt the cold freeze my brain. That seemed to refresh my way of thinking, at least. Scrubbing at the grime on my skin and hair, thoughts span dizzily around my head. Adalita was already sick, which had serious implications. The worst news I'd heard today, perhaps. I tried to piece together what I already knew, drawing up conclusions and planning how I could present things. Although, if I took the position of a deluded optimist, this news could be taken as a positive. Yes, it was excellent news, because it meant that there was still time to undo things. I grinned despite myself; I hadn't failed yet. Then I noticed that my undershirt had been put on the wrong way, and cursed.

Finally, I managed to get myself correctly attired, and began to pace the room in apprehension of Pierre's return, muttering idle threats to the absent servant in order to somehow paranormally speed his journey. That blasted peasant, what's taking him so long? I could have sought out Isabella myself, and taken less time. Even if it did bear the risk of decapitation, the risks could be outweighed by the importance of the tale I had to tell.

((:lol: Pierre has apparently been sat waiting in Felix's suite for months now, poor guy. Did they have basins back in 17th century France? Bleh. Rambly post and sorry for abandoning Mercy so rudely, Fayre :P Felix just remembered he's a man on a mission.))

[Fayreview]

((Oh i shall forgive him ;)... until he does something else wrong that is :P))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Swirly, since it’s been more than 24 hours, I’m going to assume Princess Lillian is ready to move on. Fay – Well, if she has to share the title with someone, I suppose Mercy isn’t her last choice. ;) ))

Once Princess Lillian had expressed her gratitude, Isabella was once again alone in her suite. Well, as much alone as a queen could expect to get during the day as the usual servants still milled about. Isabella lowered herself onto an armless chair, taking a few minutes to simply breathe. So much had already gone on this day and it had just begun! So many things swirled around in her mind, she felt as if she were about to drown.

To begin there was Adalita's sudden illness. It had come on so quickly, it was really quite a shock. Thankfully the Palace had been searched, and there didn’t seem to be a soul that donned the same illness. Edouard was in a foul mood, which could be understood. But still, it didn’t make things any easier on the rest of the people that shared the upper floor. Servants were walking on eggshells, and Isabella… Well, she’d hate to come across as cold and cruel, but she had other matters on her mind.

Matters that involved two very different men, for two very different reasons. Marquess Federico Berini, the thought of the man’s name alone brought a disgusted look upon her fair face. The man proved to be an idiot, a brute and perhaps a loon. She had half expected him to visit her late in the night, or this morning. No doubt he would wish to give her one more chance to earn his silence. Perhaps the servants had done their job at keeping the man off the second floor entirely. Isabella hoped so, as the last thing she needed was him going to the King. Though most his verbal assaults were aimed at Isabella, he had only made one threat. A threat aimed at Octavien.

She worried about him. Though last night his words had crushed her spirit, she just couldn’t doubt that what she thought they had just begun to share had been true. He couldn’t fake that look in his eyes all the time. When she had begun to open herself to him the night in his Suite, she saw it, she felt it. He would send for her once he was ready to talk. She just had to be patient. She hoped.

As she had come to that conclusion a servant approached her. “Your Majesty, we have just received a request for your presence…” Isabella’s eyes were about to grow wide at those words, words she had been longing to hear. “… from Comte Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes.”

“What?” the word had escaped her mouth before she could even realize how improper it was. Certainly she had heard the young lady wrong. “Are you certain it was Comte Charentes?”

“Yes your Majesty, that is what his servant had said.” The girl answered meekly.

Isabella came to her feet quickly. Could it be? Her beloved Comte had returned? He had been gone for what seemed to be ages, she had gone on with her life without his humorous antics. She had figured he was gone for good.

“What word shall I send Your Majesty?” the young girl queried cautiously.

Isabella ceased her pacing, waving her hand to the girl to get going. “Yes, of course I will see him. Send word that he is most lucky indeed, as I can meet with him in my Salon.” As the girl hurried to answer the request, Isabella continued to pace lost in thought of what could have possibly brought Felix back to the Palace, but more importantly, why had he left to begin with.

((OOC: Okay Hay… Felix can come up. :) But, I warn you, Isabella is going to make him wait for her a little while. ;) ))

[AtropaMandragora]

The upper floor hallway had been peacefully at rest, ever since Marquess Berini's arrival to the Prince's suite. Half an hour had passed since then, and only a few times had there been the faint sound of footsteps echoing between the sturdy but exquisite walls as servants went on with their daily chores. All was quiet, and almost eerily so. The news of Adalita's poor health hung like a dark cloud of worry over the entire upper floor, it clung to the faces of the servants that occasionally drifted up and down the grand staircase and in and out of the suites. It was almost as though everyone was already in mourning, even though no further word had been issued regarding her state.
But indeed... Those who had seen her were painfully aware that there did not seem to be much hope of a full and speedy recovery. Or even a slow one...

Yet another young servant girl had just quietly left Adalita's suite, when all of a sudden, there was a loud crash coming from behind the doors to the suite right across the hall - the newly crowned Prince Octavien's suite. The muffled sound of raised voices defied the thickness of the wood, and moments later, the silence shattered completely as Gilles burst through the doors.

"Help!" he cried in a voice ragged with horror and desperation. "Murder! Murder!"

His wild eyes locked on the terrified girl who seemed to have frozen to the spot the moment the doors had flung open, and was now clasping the tray she was carrying so tightly that the color of her fingers was draining so quickly, it was only outdone by the rosey hue of her cheeks.

"What are you waiting for, you stupid girl?!" Gilles yelled at her. "Go get help, the Marquess is murdering the Prince!"

Though his cries had already attracted the attention of everyone on the floor - and everyone nearby the staircase under it as well - and they all came swarming into the upper hallway. Some realized what was happening faster than others, confusion and deafening chatter filling the air before another desperate outcry from Gilles forced them to take action. As an army of servants, courtiers and guards stormed into the Prince's suite, they saw Octavien slumping to the floor with his back against the wall, his left hand covered in blood and just dropping from a gushing cut on his right shoulder. The Marquess a few yards away, by the table and a chair that had been knocked over, just staggering to his feet to the soft, clanging noise of a bloody dagger slipping out of his grasp and hitting the floor.

"Seize him!" Gilles roared, pointing accusingly at the Marquess. "He tried to murder the Prince!"

Marquess Berini's eyes widened as he saw several burly guards come towards him, looking far less pleasant than they had the night before, and he drew a quick breath as if about to protest. He could do no more, as the very next moment he was grabbed and quickly overpowered, rendered unable to move a muscle in the firm grip of the guards.

In the meantime, Gilles had rushed to Octavien's side, grabbing the first thing he could find in the process - a small cloth on a nearby table - to try and stop the bleeding. With shakey hands he tried to press it against the wound, but found himself to be dismissed by the Prince himself, who for obvious reasons seemed determined to act strong and calmly collected, and keep his dignity infront of the large, previously horror-stricken and now increasingly agitated audience that had gathered in and around the doorway.

"Take him to the scaffold!" someone in the noisy crowd shouted; a voice that was soon joined by others.

As was to be expected, the people called for immediate retribution, for justice to be done. No trial was needed, for they had all seen it with their own eyes; an attempt had been made to take the life of their very Prince. Justice should come on swift wings.
But as the guards started dragging the Marquess out of the suite, there was another call.

"Wait!"

With the help of Gilles, Octavien had come to his feet once again, and now stood straight and majestic, speaking with a firmness in his voice that demanded the attention of everyone. Even with the blood that soiled his arm and hands, and keeping the bloody cloth pressed tightly against the wound, he managed to look dignified and regal. A bit disheveled perhaps, with ashen curls coming loose from the velvet ribbon that had tied them back, and clothes that needed straightening, but still every inch a Prince.

"He shall not be sent to the scaffold", he continued, now in a lower voice as the chatter had ceased, but still just as firm. "A man so consumed by jealousy and hatred is not the master of his actions."

As he spoke, his eyes wandered from the crowd to settle on the Marquess, and it was obvious that while he himself may want nothing more than to have the man's head, he would not make himself guilty of the same crime and let his emotions run away with him.

"Take him to the dungeons", he ordered the guards instead, "so that he may calm down, and come to his senses. Then we shall decide his fate."

Then his gaze returned to the Marquess once again, and he motioned a signal for the eager guards to wait yet a few seconds before dragging their prisoner off to his new dark and damp lodging. Apparently, the Prince had something he wanted to say to the man. He approached, and his eyes, although a pale blue, pierced Marquess Berini's with an inner darkness that left him well aware that while his life might have been spared for now, it could come to be the subject of change, should he give the Prince even the tiniest reason.

"Marquess Berini", he said in a voice that had dropped so low only the Marquess and the guards around him could hear. "Know, that from now on, you are alive only because I allow it."

And with that, he took a step back and motioned for the guards to take the prisoner away, not giving him a chance to retort. For his own good, of course.
The still growing crowd parted, much like the Red Sea, allowing the guards to pass on their way down to the dungeons. Some trickled after them, to watch the prisoner and listen to his wild protests, while others stayed to gossip and exchange every minute detail of what they had heard and seen, and others yet stayed to study the Prince, perhaps hoping he would collapse and bring even more drama to the story, or perhaps, although doubtful, to make sure he was alright.
Octavien, however, soon proved to be a most uncooperative participant, as he ordered his servants to usher everyone out of his suite, and leave him to recover in peace.

[funheart00]

((ooc;; I actually have a decent post today =] .. well half-decent anyways … just have to say something first though, wowza! Drama. Drama… exciting though))



The morning finally came, and Roseline was rudely aroused from the comfort of her bed by the heavy velvet curtains that normally blocked out the unwanted light, being pulled apart. Roseline’s eyes fluttered for a moment at the light appearing behind her lids, and she finally opened them fully to see Louisa, her maid standing innocently by her bed. With a chirpy ‘good morning’ Louisa rushed off, happy that Roseline was actually up at the right time.

Morning’s used to be something that Roseline would look forward to, a new start but recently have become less desired by her tired mind which simply wished to stay in bed. With a small sigh, Roseline lifted her still tired body out of the warm sheets reluctantly, taking her time to fully wake herself until she could put it off no longer in fear of missing the morning announcements, the one thing that did cause Roseline to force herself up.

A short time later, her fair hair had been fastened up and her bedclothes had been replaced by a day dress. Finally, she made the short walk towards the Grand Salon, thinking of other things than the announcements. The sky was overcast, yet again, which forced already bored courtiers into the confines of the Palace walls.


--


At last, Roseline made her way out of the crowded Salon and into the crowded corridor directly outside of it. Eventually, Roseline had made her way away from the Salon and the corridor outside of it. She would have gone outside, like she did when the weather was warm enough, if it wasn’t for the threat of rain hanging over the Palace.

Away from the crowds, Roseline began walking along the deserted hallways of the rest of the Palace, finding her thoughts running away from her. Walking was always a good time to allow your thoughts to run away with you, even better when you could not get lost. A conclusion Roseline had come up with some time ago, after an unfortunate walk in the forests surrounding the Palace. Yes, even if she would prefer to be outdoors, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about getting lost inside, as she had to do out.

Her thoughts finally landed on the Princess. Everyone in the Palace, even the whole Kingdom was worried for her health. No one thought for one second that she would not make a fast, full recovery but it always did shock the Kingdom when a member of the Royal Family became ill. The poor girl had only just said her wedding vows, and now was confined to her Chambers, to hopefully rest up and come back to her duties as soon as possible. Yet again though, Roseline found herself worrying about the Princess’ new husband, Octavien. What an awful situation that he was in now. His new wife down with illness, while he tried to come to terms with the fact that he now was a married man, a married man to the Princess no less. Her thoughts were everywhere this morning. On wanting to congratulate Baroness Flight… on thinking of all the new blood that will come into Court any given date, and of course the Princess and her new husband.

Finding herself come round in a full Circle, Roseline passed the Grand Salon again, yet this time it was much less crowded, occasional groups of courtiers milling about at the sides while others walked briskly past, with people to see and places to be. She had just walked past the ornate staircase leading up to the top floor, when she heard the shout.

"Help!" Came a male’s voice from the floor above, causing every courtier on the floor below to stop, some even rushing up the stairs before he had finished the word. "Murder! Murder!"

Roseline suppressed a gasp. Surely someone wouldn’t joke about such a serious matter? No, the voice sounded completely serious, but her mind quickly moved onto the prospect of who it was that was in trouble. The Princess? The Queen or King? Octavien? Any of them could be in grave danger right this moment. Roseline stopped dead for a second, only to come back to her senses as a Comte of some sort barged past her to have his moment in glory, and to help whoever was in trouble.

Roseline looked up the grand staircase, which was already packed, many people obviously not all being able to fit onto the top floor. She moved towards it, taking her place on one of the steps near the bottom, not wanting to turn away and be seen as someone who would not protect her Royal Family.

The sound of voices grew, the news of what had happened running down the mass of courtiers trying to get as close as possible to the drama. ‘The Prince. It was the Prince!’ Someone told the courtier next to her, before the pair dissolved into quick, quiet French.

“Seize him” The same deep male voice came, booming down the stairs. "He tried to murder the Prince!" Came the confirmation that everyone waiting needed before a loud chatter drifted up from the crowd. Roseline simply tried to listen, she wasn’t close enough to see what was happening but it was easy to get the picture as the news spread through the mass like wildfire.

Someone close by shouted to take him to the scaffold, which sent another burst of chatter into the air, but Octavien’s voice, almost drowned out by the insistent chitter-chatter of the courtiers, came firmly to give the guards some order.

Then, everything happened quickly, Roseline found herself being pushed backwards against the banister as the rest of the courtiers moved back to make way for the culprit, who was now being restrained by two muscular guards and just as quickly as it had appeared the crowd dispersed into nothing, only a couple of clusters left talking in this corridor, though Roseline doubted that there weren’t others talking elsewhere, about the drama that had just happened.

Roseline seemed to understand what had happened all at once, realising that she was stood, no longer being pushed back against the banisters and looked up the beautiful staircase to see Octavien’s door being firmly shut.

With a worried nibble at her bottom lip, Roseline took the couple of steps back down to the main floor slowly and stopped at a small window in the hallway. Her eyes drifted across the gorgeous gardens as she found her attention once again being drawn away from her.


((Approachable =]))

[RubyAmbition]

{{Check out this nerd...No, really. My formerly decidely gone character has returned! Haha, what great news! I think...}}

The palace still held it's draw on her, but that was possibly because of it's beauty. Annelise wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to return inside to the court she now belonged to again. What had changed, and what hadn't? Would she be welcomed back, or shunned away like the forgotten toy of a young child? She wasn't sure, but her carriage had already left, and her trunks were already inside. She had no choice but to continue inside.

Her dark dusty rose colored gown rustled as she went up the stairs to the palace door, her face aglow with happiness. It was like seeing her mother again who had, oddly enough, refused her presence without grandchildren. Annelise smiled her way around the halls, not exactly sure what was happening, and not sure what wasn't happening. All she wanted was someone she knew, or for goodness sake, someone to tell her what she was supposed to be doing here!

She stood near a window, looking out the window at the grounds, winter set upon them. It was depressing, it was unwelcoming, but she somehow felt home.

{{Very, very approchable...}}

[RubyAmbition]

{{Bah humbug...double post!}}

Name: Annelise De L'orrine

Age: 24

Title: Duchess

Personality: Annelise has recently returned to the court and is very happy to see her home once more! She will enjoy her usual activties, which include jests and many other things.

http://i178.photobucket.com/albums/w246/gemstone_721/AnneliseDeLorrine.jpg

[Haylifer]

96.. 97.. 98..
I counted each click of the heel as I paced the floor, trying to keep my calm and attractive head on. With a surge of impatience, I kicked out at a copper bedwarming pan left lying around by those inefficent wenches. The thing sprung open with a clatter, emptying its sooty contents everywhere. Mocking me, damn it! Even my bedwarmer was mocking me.. And Pierre, he was the biggest mocker of them all. Where in God's name was the greasy charlatan? If he didn't return soon, I would have to take action and go find him myself. Which is precisely what I did; readying myself, I stormed through the door with such force that I knocked an equally focused Pierre to the floor.

"Pierre?" I blinked, as he lay sprawled across the floor and spoke in a somewhat irritated tone.

"The Queen permits you to speak with her, in her Salon." he said, propping himself up with his arms.

"What are you sitting down for? Chop chop, man! Call the chambermaid too when you get chance, I think you must have knocked the warming pan over on your way out last time." He scurried to his feet and back where duty called like a loyal little rat. Disregarding his impertinence, I hurried along the corridors to the staircase, passing a mirror along the way. Noticing my hair was being it's usual rebellious self, I reasoned that a few minutes wouldn't hurt anyone and set about making it at least slightly tidy. There... Felix, you dashing young man. How do you keep the ladies off you? I winked briefly to my reflection before setting off again. Damn these distractions, I needed to focus! Focus on what I was meant to be doing. And it didn't help that coming the opposite direction down the stairs was a pretty young lady who was undoubtedly a new face around court. Hold your tongue, man. Keep straight ahead.

"Why hello there beautiful, I don't believe we've met?" Curse my inability to keep quiet. I flashed her a winning smile. "Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes, Comte de Cognac, at your service my lady. And who have I the pleasure of meeting?"

"Comtesse Fleur Baisez-Corazón," she replied, fanning herself. Undoubtedly I'd also be fanning myself if I were so hot.

"I do believe you're a new face around court, Comtesse?" I said, waggling my eyebrows knowingly. She nodded. "Then it would only be proper for me to offer you a tour of the divine attractions of this palace." My conscience immediately chastised me for the suggestion, giving me a mental slap around the ears. The Queen would be furious with me for making an appointment and then becoming sidetracked; if she wasn't already so, for my disappearing in the first place. And then when she realised I had such vital news.. I paled noticably.

"Good Lord, is that the time?" I squawked, pretending to notice some invisible clock. "My lady, I think I possibly have an urgent appointment elsewhere. Consider me in your debt; I owe you that tour." I winked, bowed quickly, then again attempted my ascent of the staircase.

Finally I reached the top of the stairs, swinging around the corner and nearly crashing through the doorway to Her Majesty's salon in hastiness. Righting my balance, I gave the wood three smart taps and waited for that pretty servant girl (whom I'd got to know rather well) to see me in.

((littlesunshine123xx: Let me know if you didn't want Fleur used a little bit there :P I'll change it. Felix demanded further distractions. I possibly think he's purposefully looking for them. Oh and big yay! No more exams :D So surely I have no excuses for crappy RP posts like this, but yoink, I've promised myself no thinking tonight. I'm exhausted.))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Hay- lol As soon as I saw littlesunshine’s app… I knew Felix would find a way to get to know her!))

Isabella had just commenced her steady, rhythmic pacing pondering the most intelligent way to question Comte Felix. Yes, he had been her closest ally in the kingdom, but he had been gone. She needed to tread with great caution till she established that his motives and intentions had not changed during his absence.

It was not long before the same servant that had forwarded the Comte’s request returned announcing that he now waited for her in her Salon. “Thank you.” Isabella responded. “I shall arrive, when I arrive.” Isabella had decided to make the poor man sweat a little. She had been excited to hear he had returned, but there was no reason for him to know that. If the man thought that perhaps she did not regard him as highly as she once did, he’d be easier to read. It saddened her that she now was treating him as such, but, when you held the position that she did, you had to be careful.

After fifteen minutes had passed Isabella slowly left her suite and sauntered to her Salon. As the doors were opened, she immediately spotted him standing by the fine selection of wine that sat in the corner of the room. She found it quite humorous, but hid the fact very well. He turned around suddenly, as if he were a kid that had been caught in a candy store. “Why, Comte” she began. “Which have you missed more during your absence, your Queen, or her beverages?” Isabella’s brow was quirked in an accusatory way.

As soon as he answered her question a sound penetrated the walls of her salon. Isabella’s head turned in instinct to see what had interrupted her turn to speak. Thanks to the sturdy construction of the Palace, the sound had seeped through as a muffle, but the urgency in the voice managed to pierce through when the volume had not. Again, another yell had been given in the halls of the upper floor. Isabella’s entire body turned in its direction, yet she hadn’t moved towards the door yet. With silence in the room, and her ears intently listening, she thought she deciphered a few words… Marquess? Murder? Prince!?!

With that Isabella no longer waited in curiosity, instead she fled in fear. Moving as swiftly as her large dress allowed her, she flung the salon door open, much as it had been thrown open the night before. She stepped into the hall which had become crowded with onlookers. It seemed people crawled out from the cracks of the Palace, never had she seen so many servants and nobles standing side by side in a crowd. Her head turned to the direction of the west wing. Again, she heard the same voice cry out.

“Seize him!” the voice roared.

I know that voice.

“He tried to murder the Prince!”

“Giles.” The word had seeped out as a whisper between her lips automatically. She knew his voice, as she had heard it when he escorted her safely to her suite after the night she had spent with his master. The next name from her lips came naturally, not hushed as the first had been. “Octavien!”

She fought to push her way through the crowd that had gathered. “Take him to the scaffold!” someone cried out, which was only the first in what soon became a deafening chant calling for the death of the Marquess.

Isabella’s face was deathly pale even for her fair skin. She knew the Marquess to be many things, but never did she think he would attempt to murder Octavien. He was a lowlife, the sort of scum that reveled in playing dirty. Going to the King with his suspicions was right up his ally. She didn’t think his jealousy would lead him to make an attempt on the Prince’s life. If he were to kill anyone, she thought surely it would have been her life he’d want. The thought of Octavien being killed because of her was too much to bear. She just had to get to him, she had to find out if Federico had succeeded. Was that his goal to begin with? If he could no longer have her, she would have no one?

“Let me through!” she demanded, wishing the fools would just part, allowing her to pass through. As she determined she’d force everyone aside, she suddenly felt someone stopping her, pulling her back. Isabella turned, ready to banish whoever it was that was stopping her from being by Octavien’s side.

((OOC: The person who pulls her back, knows who he is. So, sorry, not approachable at this moment. :) ))

[Fayreview]

((Mercy and I made a descision no more writing about the water potential of a potato, however sadly I haven't had a chance to read everyone's long posts... I will though I promise!!!!!!))

"Good day my dear may I be of assistance? You seem slightly lost." Mercy approached the young woman who seemed in some way familiar to her ((Annelise)). Hmmmm who is she Mercy pondered and narrowed her eyes slightly, when the woman began to turn she switched from thoughtful to brightly smiling.

She hoped she hadn't disturbed the young girl from important ponderings but Mercy was feeling helpful today and this woman did seem without a real direction staring out of the window as she was. It was when the face of the young woman was turned to her it hit her just why this woman was familiar she was indeed a Duchess, of the court, more memories came back and her eyes widdened slightly, though her smile refused to faulter.

[stylequeen_SC]

Silvius looked up from his position on the small wooden bench just short of the rose gardens, staring up at the sky as though it held what little was left of anything for him. Adalita: his love, the one he had wanted to marry but it had been ripped away from him was dying and he had been refused entrance once again; just as his former lover had been only a couple of months ago. He sighed, running his hands through his tattered hair and dirty clothes that didn't befit a coutier of his stature. But recently, he had lost all hopes of becoming anything in the Court, many a times he had come close to leaving completely. That was really what he wanted, maybe he could get out while he still had a chance, before he was formally banished and would be shamed among his family and friends

"Duc, sir?" a servant addressed him

He tapped him on the shoulder, and Silvius nodded. Slowly, he left his retired position on the bench and made his way back into the Palace, glancing around at the hung pictures that all seemed to be staring at him: mocking him. Not only had he lost two of the only loves of his life, now his brother was back in Court and sure to cause havoc for him: if he did not take down the Queen herself: he remembered what she had told him all those months ago. About his dirty business

Suddenly, Silvius stepped back as if a dagger had come flying at his heart. Had his eyes mistaken him, or did that dark head in the corner look a lot: very much a lot like Annelise? Could it be possible? He paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, ducking his head slightly so he couldn't quite be seen unless she crained her neck to look at him. Yes...yes....by Hercules it was

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Fayreview - Oh boy. I think Mercy might just kick your behind.
And uhm.... Silvius lost TWO of the ONLY loves of his life? Talk about a contradiction in terms... *lol*)))

[RubyAmbition]

"Good day my dear may I be of assistance? You seem slightly lost."

Annelise looked up sleepily, her gaze lost in the wilderness. She could've sworn she knew this woman, but simply couldn't place her finger on it. She seemed good-hearted, and kind, but curious. She appeared very curious.

"Yes, I am slightly lost. You see, I am Duchesse De L'orrine and I have just arrived back at the Palace after a few months of absence. And I was wondering if you could point me along to my room and board here, if you do know where it is." She blushed, suddenly remembering her manners. "Oh, dear me, I seem to not have remembered your name. May I ask what I hould call you?"

She watched the lady's expression with care, realizing with a hint of hope that she recognized her. It was nice that at least someone remembered the Duchesse.

[Fayreview]

((OK. Now I have to back track and see what you've all been doing ta Atropa I hate to be in the dark :P. If I'm honest I was ploughing back through the old thread for the details on Annelise, only to remember i already know her scandal :blink: shock horror ;) whilst i was at it i found the first thought Queen ever had about Mercy:

"However Madame Flight had a reputation of her own making as well, of being the nosiest woman alive. Queen Isabella knew very well, she could never allow Madame Mercy too close to her."

Well it's nice to know opinions change huh ;)))

"I, Duchesse, am Baroness Flight. But of course I can escort you to your chambers."

((Shenan I'm assuming here that they were kept ;)))

Mercy smiled to the younger woman and with a bow of the head, began to lead the way. "It is so nice to see you once again in our Court, though your introduction was unnecessary I remembered you as soon as I saw your beautiful face." Yes she remembered something, hwever she wasn't going to bring it up the poor girl seemed lost here and perhaps her past should stay past. "I do hope everything went alright with whatever drew you away from us."

((Oh dear, I shall have to make up some sort of convo with an NPC later for Mercy to get the details of all that.... *sighs* Atropa you just couldn't make my life easy could you? :P))

[Fayreview]

((Well Shenan bebding time is just as good huh? Oh well I'm having a REALLY rough week it seems so this is the the only roleplay that has had any maintenance from yours truely! so think yourselves lucky!!!!!!!!))

[RubyAmbition]

Annelise smiled to herself, a small smirk creeping across her face. She thought she knew her, but, alas her name had not been remembered. The way up to her quarters was familiar, yet somehow saddening. She wondered if the room would be clean still...

"Ah, yes, but my business was uncalled for. It went as delightfully as it could have. I figured someone would remember me, hopefully not in an unpleasant way, but that is to be expected. I'm just very thankful that this Court is full of some of the nicest people I know."

Her thoughts ran about, taking up her focus from Mercy. It was a nice place to be, even if for the life of her she couldn't remember if she wanted to be speaking with this woman. If she had wanted to speak with her, wouldn't she at least remember that? Obviously this woman was totally new to her, even though Annelise figured she should remember her. Oh well, not everything can be remembered, especially names.

[Fayreview]

((Well i think shameless advertising is good Shenan! After all you weren't the only one to try and "nag" Haylifer about a certain characters return ;) I say "nag" as I nag, you may call it what you wish!))

"Yes there are some amazing people in this court." Mercy refused to say nice, the levels of Irony were just too much! "Well i personally am most glad to welcome you back, we recently lost a Duchess you see, mind you that was for the most terrible of behaviour." Mercy smiled at Annelise as they reached the door. The woman seemed distarcted and at slight dis-ease around herself. Mercy did not think of this as a bad thing.

"But of course we do not expect a repeat of that, and especially not from a fine young woman such as yourself." Mercy was pleased that she had seen the young woman early, it paid to remind new comers of her presence, even if both Annelise and Felix were more 'returners' than new comers. They had been reminded in some way of Mercy's existence and of her power.

She nodded at Annelise and had begun to walk away when a pale and flushed Helena rushed up to her. From the urgency with which Helena gripped Mercy's hand she sensed she should hurry. Once a safe distance, helena proceeded to fill her in on a rogue man in the court and an attack on the Prince. What was happening with the Prince? She had wondered before and now she was forced too again, Mercy decided to seek out a guard to see what they knew of the matter.

((Sorry RubyAmbition feel free to Call mercy back if you wish or to be upset with her, but as a gossip she is drawn like a moth to the flame, and a faithful servant chat was the only thing I could think to do!))

[RubyAmbition]

Annelise promptly thanked Mercy for showing her to her room. It was still the same. Maybe before she went about to wander and catch up on a few things, she'd see if her quarters needed the attention of a maid or not.

It smelled the same, just like her perfume smelled. A light and airy, floral scent. It was charming. It looked clean, minus the traces of her clothing and such from the floor. Her fingers traced the edges of familiar objects, smiling at small memories from living here. Annelise checked her closet, finding all her garments in place and tidied up. Possibly she'd have the same maid that she had in her previous residence. It was a pleasant place to be, as was the rest of the Palace.

She exited and locked her door with care, putting the key back on the neckchain around her neck. Silver chain, she dropped it back down her dress, and made her way to a stop at the top of the stairs. It was a beautiful place to be, until her eyes stopped on a man with dirtied clothes. He seemed familiar, but she wasn't quite up to seeing who he was. Maybe he'd see her, and maybe she did know him.

{{It's fine...BTW, feel free to shorten my name or call me Manda. I almost always get confused when I see my username...Just awesome like that. :)}}

[Haylifer]

"He tried to murder the Prince!" came a yell from nearby. Murder? There was a murderer in the palace, a dangerously immoral revolutionist no doubt, who could be on a trail of destruction through the whole of court! Thankfully, the word 'tried' held some positive implications. Octavien wasn't dead, and the murderer was likely to be unskilled at his trade. The word Marquess could also be heard multiple times. Whoever this Marquess person was, and whatever business he had in the Palace.. Surely he was yet another deranged buffoon, jealous over Octavien's recent marriage to the Princess. The Princess. What with her misfortune, and now the Prince; how romantically tragic.

Merde. Something was definitely awry out there, and whether it be murder or not, it didn't sound good. If that man got anywhere near Isabella.. God only knew what could happen. We'd have a case of treason; and I would have lost my beloved Queen, along with her especially lovely collection of beverages. Thankfully, she was safely up here in the Salon, protected by not only scores of armoured guards, but my skilled expertise in negotiation. I breathed a sigh of relief, turning to the Queen to comment on the commotion.

"Isabella?" My eyes darted around the room: gone... The Queen wasn't anywhere to be seen. And if she wasn't up here where it was safe, then...

My heart leapt in panic, as adrenaline forced me to run forwards, towards the doors which were still swinging from Isabella's departure. I sprinted across the gallery, nearly crashing into the wall opposite. The crowd of spectators could be heard audibly now, their panicked voices claiming fear for their lives. If only the Queen had the same sense of self-danger. Then, I heard her voice above all others, crying Octavien's name as she attempted to push through the frightened crowd.

No time to spare, I fought my way through the crowds after her, hot on the heels of that speeding flurry of royal lace. Did she not understand there was a murderer on the loose? A lunatic deserving of the gallows? There was no other way. I valued the Queen's life far too much to allow her to pass through that crowd easily. Even if she didn't.

With a surge of chivalric strength I didn't know I posessed, I managed to wrestle the gossiping courtiers aside and catch hold of the Queen by the arm. It took some effort restraining her; the woman turned out to be quite strong for such a lady of grace.

"Let go of me!" she cried, turning around with eyes full of fiery determination. "I must see what-"

"I can't let you, Your Majesty" I said, with an attempt to impose some heroic chivalry in my voice as I pulled her a few steps away from the crowd and the dangers behind it.

"I order you to unhand me, Felix!" came the reply, not a fraction of the level-headed, calm Queen Isabella the court knew her to be as she struggled to free herself. "That's an order, you hear!"

Did I dutifully follow orders, ever the loyal sidekick to Isabella's every word? I couldn't. I couldn't live with myself if I messed up here.

"And put you before a murderer? With all due respect Your Majesty, as a Comte I do believe it's my orders to protect you with my life. He'll try kill you too if you give him the chance. I regard your life with the highest value, even if you don't."

I glanced to the heart of the action; this Marquess person was being held by at least twenty guards, and being dragged away. I let out a small sigh of relief that at least he was no longer a threat. Octavien was nowhere to be seen, though.

((Blahhh, sucky and rambling and no good, I know, but it's late and I've had a few drinks now and I can't rightly concentrate. Pfft Fayre, shameless nagging? Heh, I require no nagging, how could I resist it? :D Anyway.. bed now. :howdy: Goodnight, courtiers!))

[Haylifer]

((Ahh thanks Atropa. I'll fix that, although I'm currently using a keyboard literally 2 inches wide. May take some time. Can we not pretend Octavien was snooping around someone elses suite when it happened? :p))

((EDIT: I'll leave it until the morning when I get access to a proper PC rather than trying to get the iPhone to scroll down the editor box... :) Ew. I somehow managed to get a load of funny squares appear anyway.. Oh well. Everything will be better in the morning ))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Friendly reminder, a little less than 24 hours before we move onto the afternoon.
Hay – Post 2 has palace maps. :) Once you get to a screen that you can actually see on, learn them. :p Also, since I have time tonight, I thought I’d go ahead and reply as if you changed that post of yours. See how much faith I have in you?
Fay… You may nag, but I simply asked. Only once! lol
Glad to see so many familiar faces return, and new ones appear. May we all create wonderful twisted storylines together!))

The crowd was thick, every eye and mind was on the Prince’s Suite and what was happening inside it. Including Isabella’s. The possibility that Octavien could be dying before they had come to terms with each other was gnawing at her mind and at her heart. She could not allow that to happen. She was not going to be left on this pathetic world the rest of her life knowing that it was her fault that his life had been taken.

All those thoughts had taken over her. She had felt rage before in her life, but this, this emotion, it was different. All her past moments of rage had been because of something done to her. She was double crossed, insulted, or perhaps underestimated. Never had a rage been born out of her concern for another person.

So when her arm had been firmly grasped, it was with blinded eyes that she turned, hissing demands. “Let go of me!” Her head spun around landing upon Comte Felix. Her eyes narrowed, communicating abundantly clear her displeasure at being held back. “If you know what’s best for you-“

“I can’t let you, Your Majesty!” he interrupted her, pulling her back from the crowd.

Isabella still couldn’t see clearly, all she saw was this pathetic little man, stopping her. Why in the world was he stopping her? A command! She thought quickly. If it was one thing the man understood, it was orders. “I order you to unhand me Felix!” she followed through on her thought as she attempted to pull away from him. “That is an order!”

“And put you before a murderer? With all due respect Your Majesty, as a Comte I do believe it’s my orders to protect you with my life.” Felix’s words had begun to penetrate her anger, beckoning to the rational woman that was buried underneath. “He’ll try to kill you too if you give him the chance. I regard your life with the highest value, even if you don’t.”

His words bounced around in her mind, as she struggled to take a deep breath. She had stopped pulling with all her might, so when she snapped her arm back from the Comte, he had allowed her the freedom from his grasp she so desperately wanted. She looked around as she quickly regained her posture, it appeared that everyone but Comte Charantes had their eyes focused on Octavian’s Suite, seemingly oblivious to the fight she had just put up to be in that room. A fight she had lost. Her mind knew that Felix was correct. Who in their right mind would allow the Queen of the kingdom to be near a murderer? One who apparently had the quest of Royal Blood driving him.

With Felix’s eyes still upon her, watching for the slightest sign that she might make a run for it, she stood erect and with her head held high, she purposefully brushed passed him, walking towards the Salon. She did not enter through its doors however, as she still had every intention to gather what information she could. As she turned, she spotted the doors to Eduard’s Salon open as well. The King stood in the doorway of his Salon in the company of palace guards.

Just then she heard the distinct cry of Marquess Berini as he was being drug in her direction, the guards bringing him down the stairs. “I don’t know where that dagger came from!” the lunatic cried out. Obviously grasping at straws. With the amount of eye witnesses the man was a fool to think his charm could buy his freedom.

Isabella grabbed a servant by the arm. “Run at once and see the nature of the Prince’s condition.” The startled girl took a second to comprehend the order she had just been given before running down the hall. She had gotten to the doors just as they were being closed. Once she returned to Isabella, the only news she could give was that she did see Octavien walking deeper into his suite. So he appeared to be okay.

Isabella forced a thank you and turned instantly to enter her salon, leaving Felix to close the doors. She found herself fighting so many emotions it was dizzying. There was the guilt she carried. If she had just allowed the Marquess to indulge in his fantasies one more time, none of this whole horrid mess would have happened. She was scared at what harm he had done to Octavien physically, never mind the harm he had done to their relationship. Most of all she was frustrated. She wanted to be in that room with him. He was there to defend her from Federico in her moment of need, how could she not be with him now?

Isabella suddenly found herself in front of the wine cabinet that Felix had been studying so closely just moments ago. Her thoughts had led her here. She firmly grabbed the long neck of the container and filled a glass. Taking it in her hand, and much unlike normal she downed the whole glass. It had been a long time since she had a good drink. She had been quite content and happy spending her time with Octavien, she had no need of such drinks. But right now, the smooth liquid called to her. She may have managed to gain control of her body, but she struggled to gain control of her emotions. As she poured a second glass, much calmer now than when she had poured the first, Felix’s voice pierced through the silence.

As Isabella’s stare was fixated on the harpsichord, she listened to his words.

((OOC: Hay, I couldn’t decide what to have Felix say. I thought a comment about if she planned to share any of her wine with him, or perhaps he hadn’t seen her drink like that since just before a certain Duc’s death, or even something about him recognizing Federico Berini. So I thought I’d leave it for you to decide. :) ))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Welcome back S2CForums!
With the downtime, and problems some people are having logging in, the morning for our characters will be extended. Afternoon will come about 34 hours from this post.

Also, I'd like to announce that an old friend of the King is on his way to our palace. :) He seems promising to shake things up a little bit. More information coming soon... ))

[Haylifer]

((So 'next morning' turned out to be two days later. Oh well. It's pretty much fixed now I think :) Two days without my beloved Felix! I become far too attached to my RP characters, is that weird? I think I'd cry if some random Marquess had a go at my little Comte. Punch his lights out, too. I'll edit this with a RP when it's spiffed up :D))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: You know I love you all. ;) And I hate to be a downer. But now with the new rules of creating a new thread after a RP reaches the 1000 post mark, I have to be a meanie, and ask everyone to remember the rule about spam. (No, not the salty stuff some call food, the little comments made on the forum.) I am enjoying the feeling of us being a big happy family, I'm so glad the forums are up and that my beloved courtiers are around. But please make sure the posts you make are necessary. Thank you!
*runs off to delete her own spam* ))

[RubyAmbition]

Annelise walked down the rest of the stairs, making her way outside. Maybe it would be best for her if she was outside, breathing in the freash, cool air. Hopefully not freezing, but this dress actually had sleeves, quite the fashionable thing for this time of year. She liked the warmth of the situatuion, the welcome feeling of being back to a place she had missed dearly whilst trying to visit her mother. Hopefully she wouldn't be torn away from this place to mourn her mother in the time being. Her father had already been buried, not nicely at that, and she hadn't been given the chance to actually mourn his grave properly until she'd found out where it was. And that was like taking a hunting dog away from it's trail.

She made her way into the rose gardens, remembering all the times she'd been in here with Silvius until he'd met The Princess. She suspected the two happily married, until her new maid had told her otherwise. The Princess Adalita was on her deathbed, and hadn't married Silvius, but in his place, a man known as Octavian. In all of her heart, Annelise couldn't see why a rumored fake marriage such as the one her maid had described would be favorable by anyone. Oh well, all she could do was hope that it was indeed for the best, not the worst as it may have seemed.


She quickly took a seat on a small wooden bench, wonering why this place, why this bench. The bench in itself wasn't spectacular, but it seemed to make her want to remember all the times she'd walked through here with him. Maybe he would remember her, not forget her as she thought he had long before Annelise had even left. She sighed quietly, realizing for the first time that their relationship, which couldn't quite be called in her own mind more than some powerful chemistry and a few good times. She didn't think he wanted a serious relationship, courtship, or anything, but knew somehow that she wanted that with him, even if he didn't. Maybe she'd see him again, anyway. Maybe not.

[Fayreview]

((Ok Shenan point taken! And yay corner room! Mercy has more windows than she needs but that makes for a nice, bright room huh? I figured she hasn't said anything for a while so here is a boring pointless post for y'all))

Mercy returned to her suite, so a Duchess had returned along with a delightful Comte, it seems people would be around every corner once again, which meant sneaking around would be slightly more complex. She wondered as to what she should do today. The sun was bright, the clouds were perfectly white she did not however feel like riding the house she had "relieved" the last Duchess of so perhaps a wlak instead? yes she thought. what a lovely day for that. It would give her time to think and to wonder just what to do with herself. She needed a new distraction, a hobby if you will.

With her mind vaguely focused on trying some flower arranging she crossed the place gardens to the orangery.

((Approachable))

[stylequeen_SC]

Silvius immediately headed up to his suite once Annelise had left the Palace and headed out into the grounds, and he wondered whether he wanted to see her again. Powerful chemistry flowing inside of him was fast drawing him back to her, but the Princess was on her death bed: Octavien himself showing no care to look after her: and he hadn't even been let in. Moments later, he entered his suite and instructed his servants to dress him smartly, attiring himself in a smart red riding jacket and white curled scarf, and black jogphurs that clung tightly to his legs: he had to see her. He just knew it

It wasn't long before Silvius was back down the stairs and he stepped out of the doors of the Palace and into the grounds, heart beating faster than he ever remembered. A simple glance in the direction of his beloved rose gardens proved to be beneficial, Annelise herself sitting quietly on one of the benches and his heart began to pound again. Maybe she didn't even want to see him; she'd probably scorn him and send him away: maybe she wouldn't even recognise him

Slowly, Silvius approached her and, grinning from ear to ear, he sat down casually on the other side of the bench

"Good Morning Duchess" he smiled, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles from the side and he grinned at her over the top of it, "if my eyes do not mistake me, you look very much like an old love of mine" he teased, "or possibly even more beautiful than I remember"

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Ruby - No one really knows that it's a "fake" marriage. No one even knows that Adalita has cheated on Octavien (except Silvius' & Adalita's maids perhaps). There have just been rumours about her being seen with Silvius. Sure, there may be suspicions, but Adalita and Octavien both played their parts on their wedding day, so...
*edit after Fayre's post below* Mercy, of course, knows. :D As does Silvius. But unless either of those have said something...


stylequeen - Ehmmmm... Octavien was just attacked, and injured. He probably hasn't even been given a chance to see Adalita, nor show any care for her since. Plus I don't see how Silvius would know he hasn't been in to see her. And do keep in mind, he looked rather depressed during the morning announcement. I'd say it would be safe for anyone to assume he's worried sick about her.

Sorry, it's just that people seem to know a bit more than they have any chance of knowing...


*edit to comment post below* Ok, is you say so. Just thought he'd might recognize an attempted murder as a reason for Octavien to be somewhat distracted. But ok then, he doesn't. No need to bite my head off for trying to help. Christ... )))

[stylequeen_SC]

ooc: give the guy a break. He likes to believe that Octavien doesn't care about her. His own thoughts don't have to be completely accurate!!

EDIT: sorry I honestly wasnt biting your head off
i suppose i just missed off a smilie, but i wasn't saying it in a nasty way
apologies

[Fayreview]

((Mmmm. As Shenan isn't here I just thought I'd say that one, thoughts are thoughts so whatever your character wants to believe is ok, but it would be helpful if you could OCC so we know YOU aren't confused and it's just your charcters view and two that Atropa is just trying to keep the storyline together, which is why she corrected Ruby as well, its an amiable trait

and on a little note so you all know Mercy is aware of the false marriage because she was talking to Isabella about it.

That being said keep up the good Roleplaying!))

[RubyAmbition]

{{I changed it...well, more or less added a word.}}

"Good Morning Duchess"


Annelise smiled, cocking her head to the side at him. "Good day to you, as well, Duc."


"If my eyes do not mistake me, you look very much like an old love of mine" he teased, "or possibly even more beautiful than I remember."


She smiled again, shaking her head. Flattery, she should have guessed. "You know, Silvius, it's not like flattery will be getting you anywhere. And I'm sure that's not hard to do with your promiscuous ways, if I dare remember correctly. On the contraire, how are you? You don't look quite so happy."


Annelise looked him over, because well...what else would she do? He looked a bit troubled to begin with, and a bit more than slightly nervous. He hadn't lost his teasing ways, though.

[stylequeen_SC]

Very true: Silvius was (mostly) still the personification of a tease, but the things he said and the actions he took were beginning to resonate beneath his skin for the first time: could it be possible that he was developing a conscience? Could he be more than a pretty face and a bed

"Alas, I fear looks can be decieving!" he replied, biting down gently on his lower lip

He sat back on the bench, just smiling over at Annelise: almost like he couldn't believe she was truely there. He remembered the moment when he had watched her be driven away and watched his love slip through his fingers; only to find solace with a woman he believed to be the only one to replace her. But now she was married too, and on her death bed. Luck in love: no way

"My Duchess how I have missed you!" Silvius laughed gently, "and I suppose I am not too bad: alone again in the world as usual and fighting for my place amongst this Court: it is not in the least bit easy to stay here and go it alone"

He was troubled, that was certainly the case. He pondered the consequences of his actions, but he assumed there would be none anyway. Annelise had probably gone off and gotten herself married; and the secret she had told him before leaving still played on his mind, threatening to be forgotten

"How have you been?" Silvius asked, standing up and offering her his arm, "perhaps you would accompany me on a stroll through the Rose Gardens?" he requested

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Fayreview - thank you for trying to help!
Everyone - I will be bold and say that this RP is a little different than others in that it's storyline is quite twisted. It's what makes it what it is. With the implications of it being full of "secret" backstabbing and what not, it is more important in this rp than others to keep the storyline straight.

We had the big discussion back when regarding Adalita's pregnancy and marriage, where I went back through the posts and rebuilt the timeline. I really don't want to do that again, so please, take the time to know what our characters know and what they don't.

Heck, I've known that Duchess Marie had an affair with Edouard for ages. However to this day Isabella still only suspects it. And that was after finding out she gave Edouard gifts and danced with him at the Masqurade Ball. So please be careful in that aspect.

Onto other things... The King's Old Friend, Dimitri-Josèphe, duc d'Lorraine is due to arrive at the Palace this RP day! We'll have to all give him the proper Palace of Light and Air welcome. :) (Mercy, that's your cue. ;) ) ))

[RubyAmbition]

{{I have works...Be back laterzzz...}}


Annelise stood up and accepted his arm. It could do no harm...at least, she didn't think it could. And if it caused her any bodily harm, then she may look ahead and watch for loose stones. What would a woman of such power do if she found herself laying in heap on the ground because she tripped?


"Oh, well, we can all guess that being alone in the world happens. I, for one, was trying to visit my mother. But she insisted that I should have..." She counted on her fingers. "Eight children by now. I'm far too young in my view to have that many children! I suspect she wants them to drop out like...I don't even know! Alas, though, I feel as if I missed you, Duc, while I was away. I don't know how you feel, though, so I won't do anything." She smiled and shrugged, hard to do in such a heavy dress, but doable. "I feel as if I'm the Queen of Overshare today."

[Mahenveau]

((i...i...can't resist.))

Name: Amelie Du Polingac
Title: Duchess
Age: newly 18
Personality: Amelie has always been the gentle kind, yet she has had a taste for gossip, and is quite scandalous herself. She enjoys sewing and anything to do with celebrations, which causes damage to her title every once in a while, but she finds solace after any negative remark of her title or her. Amelie has always had a passion for music, and is trained in opera.
Picture:
http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m85/Mahenveau/church6.jpg

((hope this is good enough :D ))

[Haylifer]

I stood awkwardly in the tense silence, as Isabella walked past me and opened that fine wine cabinet. I watched with a mixture of curiosity and longing for that bottle as she poured its burgundy contents into a glass; understandably the Queen would have a thirst for the alcohol to calm her nerves right now. Who would expect otherwise? Even I, the most level-headed and heroic courtier in Paris, felt thoroughly shaken up by the recent goings-on. I fiddled with my sleeve, waiting for the second glass to emerge from the cabinet eagerly. I was met with disappointment, and mild surprise as the Queen downed her own glass in much shorter time than even my record. Shifting slightly closer, I cleared my throat slightly in order to draw her attention to the poor drinkless Comte who just risked life and limb for her sake, but her attention was too focused on the spirit before her.

As she poured herself a second drink, my mind gently toyed with the idea of telling her where I had been for the past many months, and more importantly why I had returned. I supposed the outcome would be something similar to a nervous breakdown, so decided to hold my tongue. And if she asked, I'd have to come up with some excuse. A good excuse, of course, as not to make her feel like I had abandoned the palace. I didn't dare to imagine what life without my charming self around would be like, however brief the period.

But, I mused to myself, why would a non-fatal assault on Octavien unsettle her so? The two were close, I knew. I'd often seen them together but only assumed that their relationship was merely a friendly one. Though looking at Isabella now, the expression on her face gave away all to clearly that she was deeply concerned about him, and I began to wonder.. was there anything more?

The silence was becoming a bit too heavy, never a good thing after a traumatic event. I knew from experience. Perhaps I ought to lighten the mood a bit, take her mind off things. Or offer some consolance. After all, I'd heard on the continent that sadness was a great aphrodisiac - maybe stress had the same qualities. I hushed that thought. The Queen needed comfort, or humour, or both. Then of course, there was that nagging curiosity to ask about her position with the Prince. Far too bold to ever voice of course, but maybe I could subtley tread around the area and uncover some secrets.. Though knowing my clumsy manner of 'subtleness', I'd end up ejected from court minus a head.

"Château Margaux," I commented, eyeing the bottle speculatively. "Now, I'd recommend my own brand of eau de vie, Your Majesty." I indicated the squat bottle of Cognac nestled away behind other various tincanters. "I doubt anyone could down that liquid at such speed. Here, allow me." It wasn't so much a challenge as a way of directing her attention to my lack of beverage. I took the bottle out, pouring two glasses out and taking one myself. Serving a Queen with Brandy? My conscience questioned me, accusingly. I shrugged it off as a necessity in present situation.

"I think I should act as taster, though. God forbid, Federico the Maniac could have poisoned it and tainted the heavenly flavour." I waggled my own glass and took a sip, passing her the second.

Her lips twitched a little. It could have been a tiny smile, although still looked troubled. Or just a reflex to the strength of the spirit. Once the brandy took hold, that would take care of that matter though. I leaned a little closer, attempting to look sympathetic and kind.

"Oh don't fret, Your Majesty. If I know the Marquess, he is a complete oaf full of ineptitude at nearly everything. I doubt he even knows the correct use of a dagger. He probably suspects them to be fancy toothpicks." I chirped. It was another white lie; I'd only ever met Marquess Berini once before at some majestic ball in Vienna, not even long enough to determine anything except he looked much less dashing than myself, and pout over the number of women he seemed to attract despite.

((Clearly Felix babbles when he's nervous. Shenan, if you want anything changing just PM me and I'll be speedy and not leave it a whole 2 days like last time :lol:))

((EDIT: Welcome to the Palace, Mahenveau ;) Ooh more young girls for Felix to toy around with.. he will be most pleased :D))

[Mahenveau]

((thank you, Haylifer. :) I'm sure Amelie will be delighted at Felix...he looks like a charmer. ;) ))

The Palace was beautiful. So much that it took Amelie's breath away as she walked through the Grand Hall.
"I could get lost in this place," she whispered to herself as she observed the perfectly carved walls, and the statues of all other rulers. She looked out a big window, to see a garden she immediately favored, the flowers were not blooming, however, but yet the way it was neatly trimmed and just the view itself was phenomenal to her eyes. Amelie smiled at the lovely garden, and passed the window, continuing to wonder the Great Hall.
As a few other courtiers passed by, and she gave them a formal and polite bow.

[Seiza]

Name: Dimitri-Josèphe, duc d'Lorraine
Age: 48
Title: Duc

Personality: Duc Dimitri studied with King Edouard as a youth, and has remained among his closest confidants since. Compared to the light King, Dimitri is as a skeleton of steel patched together in earth and clay, with a similarly inscrutable disposition. A strong believer in a strong King for a strong kingdom, he dedicated his early years to securing the foundations from which Edouard would rule. His preparations were interrupted by the death of his older brother, after which Dimitri was recalled to his family's estate in Lorraine. Although he has remained away from the court ever since, it was no loss to this strict man, who scoffed at the frivolities of the younger nobles and their nonexistent sense of duty to the throne. Despite his stiffness, Dimitri has often made decisions that throw others for a loop, as long as the ends aligned with his own principles.

Description (close-up profile (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v85/seiza/misc/sims/baroque__olddimitriprofile.jpg)): Grey eyes. Tanned complexion. Dimitri is of above average height and build, but has become skinnier compared to his days in the army. He has several scars on the left side of his face. Light wrinkles line the corners of his eyes and forehead.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v85/seiza/misc/sims/baroque__olddimitri.jpg

Random Pictures :D

Dimitri pays his respects at a grave. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v85/seiza/misc/sims/baroque__dimitrikneel.jpg)
Jehanne explains her new invention, the "eye ring". Enthusiastically. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v85/seiza/misc/sims/baroque__jehanneeyering.jpg)

______

((My RP style: I'm fine if anyone godmods my character into doing minimal things, e.g. drinking some wine, entering a room, bowing to a lady etc. As long as he isn't doing handstands on the palace walls, I'm good.

Glad to be in this RP, let's have lots of scandalous fun! :D))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: I should have stated it clearly when the RP opened to new players that our court is currently in the middle of winter. It’s the second day of the New Year, so please, the only flowers in full bloom are the ones in the Orangery (greenhouse). The gardens are bare, so is the forest.
Hay, I love Felix. Only he would think the situation to be an aphrodisiac for poor Isabella.
Seiza, I’m glad to see Dimitri’s app. Feel free to start RPing with him whenever you like!
*whispers to Fayreview* psst… I think he’s about Mercy’s age ;) ))

Isabella gulped the first glass down, the act forcing her to inhale deeply. One of several she would need to calm her emotions, to start thinking with her head. Felix cleared his throat, reminding Isabella that he was still there. Her ears had heard him, but her eyes focused on the harpsichord, images of Octavien sitting beside her replaying in her mind.

“Château Margaux”, came Felix’s voice, commenting on the beverage she had just downed. “Now, I'd recommend my own brand of eau de vie, Your Majesty.”

Felix’s words were enough to break her stare, as her eyes quickly shifted from the harpsichord to his face. Watching the man cleverly get a drink for himself and use his words to disguise it as his duty to her managed to bring the faintest shadow of a smile to her lips. She sat her glass down and turned towards him, her arms crossing in front of her body. There was no doubt in her mind, this was definitely still the Comte d'Cognac. On the surface he appeared to be a bumbling idiot, but deep within he was a loyal and fine man, unique in every way.

By time he handed her the glass of brandy he had poured, Isabella’s pulse had managed to slow. She took a small sip while he continued talking of Marquess Berini’s lack of ability to wield a weapon, her eyes widening as she swallowed. She watched him intently as he talked, she decided that he had been through enough, she would not be as harsh with him as she had planned originally. She sat her glass down having only taken one sip, “I have so missed your antics Felix.” She commented sincerely.

Her voice clearly testified to the fact that the events that had just unfolded still distracted her. She however purposed that after her meeting with Felix was through, she would find a suitable cover to check on Octavien. She slowly walked towards a chaise lounge choosing to not discuss the particulars of what had just taken place. “Many things have changed while you’ve been gone Comte.” She turned towards him, lowering her body to sit. “While I do appreciate the fact that you have returned, I wish to know what kept you away, and more importantly why you’ve returned.”

She looked towards him earnestly, watching his body language intently. While she really did wish to know such things, she struggled intensely to keep her mind on her current surroundings. She was well aware that Felix knew her well enough, he could tell her focus was not on him, and she was thankful to know that he was one of the few she could trust with that fact.

*edit* for post below
:laugh: Oh my goodness... now that's an image. Mercy seducing the King. As long as Mercy does her part to keep Edouard in the dark about Octavien, I'm sure she wouldn't mind too much. I can see it now. Isabella calls for Mercy. "I'm going to go spend time with Octavien, will you go distract Edouard?" :lol: Oye... that would bring "twisted" a whole new meaning!

[Fayreview]

((Oh dear! It seems you an I are on exactly the same wave length Shenan! Yup, in fact Mercy, Dimitri and Edouard are all vaguely the same age. But seducing the king sadly is not possible. It also would not do much for Mercy and Isabella's friendship, so that is why she has never tried XD))

[littlesunshine123xx]

((OOC: Im totally lost lol i have no idea what is going on, i want to rp but unsure what to right and who to try and approach. Cud someone pm whats happened. I;m so sorry ive been sick and the board down and stuff and i dont want to drop out cause this looks good))

[Seiza]

It was the first afternoon of the second day of the new year. A fine day for feasting and dancing in a splendid palace, but the same could not be said for travelling across the countryside at breakneck speed. His carriage wheels clattered dangerously against the hard ground, threatening to break at any moment. The frost had not quite thawed from the road, nor from the leaves, or the eyebrows of peasants he flew past; and it seemed that every new year a little more of the chill seeped a little deeper into his bones.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, but such were the conditions in which Duc Dimitri-Josèphe thrived, and he had never been more awake since this sordid trip started.

They had requested—nay, begged!—him to delay his trip until the ice cleared. But the Duc had to only glance once at the pathetic sun struggling through the grey sky, and his mind was made. To his shame and horror, he was already several days late for Princess Adalita Rotherham’s momentous wedding—now he was but one town away from the palace, the closeness was too much to bear. It would be the head for anyone who would deign to delay him even further!

Dimitri only slept a few hours in his bumbling, bouncing carriage, but his eyes were sharp and clear as the driver alerted them to the Palace of Light and Air. They had taken the Duc’s shortcut, and would round the Orangery, barely skim the Palace Gardens and come to a skidding, halting stop in the grand Courtyard.

He was not an impatient man, but even Dimitri could not ignore some desires. He ordered the driver to quicken their speed. He imagined the palace must be steeped in celebrations and gaiety by now: there was Adalita’s wedding, the New Year parties, and Christmas season was not yet over. All he wanted, however, was to see the young princess married...

A strangled yell tore through the Palace Courtyard.

Dimitri recognised the evasive movement his driver was swinging into. It was the motion of one trying to avoid running over something alive. An animal? A palace hand? He laid one hand upon the carved door, calmly moving in motion with the heaving carriage. Images of the Palace’s Rose Garden, covered in ice and frozen in time, whizzed by his window. The carriage fumbled and clattered and tilted dangerously to one side for a split-second, before regaining its balance with an innocuous ‘thump’ of wheel hitting cobblestone.

Dimitri stepped calmly into the biting outside air, looking for the animal deemed worthy of such precaution. He saw the reason his driver was practically shaking in his seat—it was no animal, nor even a servant; they had almost run over a woman.

The Duc needn’t issue orders: while he swiftly moved to her, his boots stamping heavily into the thin layer of snow; his swarthy aid left to seek servants and the palace physician. Dimitri knelt beside the shaking madame, grey eyes checking for any major injuries even as he offered her his support, his arm and his apologies. He fired off questions at a rapid yet steady rate, aimed at calming her down.

“Are you all right, Madame? My deepest apologies, I have travelled for long nights and neither of us saw you approaching. Where are you hurt? Can you stand?”

______

((Take it away, Fayre! Ohhh, what is this about Dimitri and Mercy's similar ages? :lol: Perfectly innocent OOC chat, I'm sure ;)

littlesunshine: Basically, Adalita is sick and someone tried to murder the Prince earlier this morning. Wonderful start for the palace's new year, aye? If you want, you can have your character witness our near-accident in the Courtyard or approach Amelie, a fellow new arrival, in the palace itself.))

[Shenanigans_SC]

It is now afternoon

It's not JUST an afternoon, it's a WINTER afternoon. Snow on the ground, ice crystals... DORMANT FLOWER BUSHES

[Fayreview]

Mercy sighed, she wondered if she could manage proper flower arranging, she had done it that very morning of course but Helena had already chosen the blooms she had merely move the bouquet about a little to make it look co-ordinated.

Mercy recognised a sound. She turned. A strangled yell tore through the Palace Courtyard.

The Baroness was, for the second time in recent days sprawled upon the floor the carriage skittered off to the left swaying slightly, it fumbled and clattered and tilted dangerously to one side for a split-second, before regaining its balance with an innocuous ‘thump’ of wheel hitting cobblestone, Mercy's eyes narrowed, she sadly could not get up in this dress, so she sat there on the ground in the snow, a particularly expensive Blue dress she had been given by a Duchess no less.

She was still sat on the floor trying to look dignified when a man stepped out of the carriage, he looked around for slightly longer than Mercy would have liked, what was he wishing for a twenty year old to have almost hit? His eyes finally met hers.

The man's companion darted into the castle. How she hoped she needn't seek medical attention because whilst they were at itging her mustard poultices and sour concoctions, they'd probably give her leeches for the cut on her cheek as well, all she really needed was a drink. He swiftly moved to her, his boots stamping heavily into the thin layer of snow and knelt beside him she looked up at him with anger in mind, however he knelt beside her in the snow, she shivered and then cursed herself inwardly for doing so.

His dazzling grey eyes checking for any major injuries even as he offered her his support, his arm and his apologies. He fired off questions at a rapid yet steady rate, making sure was alright or just making sure she wasn't about to become hysterical?

“Are you all right, Madame? My deepest apologies, I have travelled for long nights and neither of us saw you approaching. Where are you hurt? Can you stand?”

"Well why don't we try, the pain of standing is preferable over being a Baroness sat on cobblestones in the snow." Several men erupted through the Palace doors. Among them she recognised the man she had frequently seen opening doors on the top floor of the palace, and thankfully Helena. She was lifted to her feet, she winced as yesterday's bruise was still present on her arm. In truth she did not look fine and could quite easily cause some trouble for this new man, Helena came towards her and she gave a whispered message for delivery to the Queen.

She turned back to the man, "I am just a little bruised. I have suffered worst injuries Ballroom dancing. That is not to make light of the situation it just so happens that my late husband was a terrible dancer. Now perhaps you would help a Lady to her room?" Mercy still did not know how to treat this man. He was handsome and seemingly nice but he had just run her over so she couldn't be sweet even if it gave her a chance to be more familiar.

[Seiza]

"Well why don't we try, the pain of standing is preferable over being a Baroness sat on cobblestones in the snow."

Dimitri was momentarily shocked by her reply—he had expected weeping and much hitting of chest with flowery handkerchiefs, which he deemed perfectly acceptable in light of the near-accident that had happened. But Madame had instead presented him a glib tongue in the face of such pain. If it would not have been so impolite (or if she had been a man), Dimitri would have chuckled and landed a solid, encouraging slap on her shoulder.

But she was a woman, and so the Duc wrapped one arm around her small back to help her up, his other hand clutching her own. He still had a bit of mass on him, and could serve as a steady anchor until she could stand on her own... or until a swarm of servants rushed at them through the palace doors.

He let her go when her own girls came to support her.

As they spoke to one another, Dimitri turned to his own aid, who had returned as silent as the night. But even within the crowd, one could pick out the latter’s oak-brown complexion. Switching to childlike French, uncommon even among servants, Dimitri ordered, “I wish to make certain that the Madame is all right. Have the bags taken in. I shall meet the King before dinner.”

His aid bowed and left, just in time. The lady was addressing him.

"I am just a little bruised. I have suffered worst injuries Ballroom dancing. That is not to make light of the situation it just so happens that my late husband was a terrible dancer. Now perhaps you would help a Lady to her room?"

“It is the least I could do, Madame.” The Duc offered his arm, guiding them slowly through the throng of servants still milling about. If they did not recognise him, he was nonetheless able to part them like the Red Sea, simply with a stare. He adjusted his long strides according to her capacity.

“When you are in the condition to, I hope to acquire the name of the maker of your lovely dress,” Dimitri spoke lightly. He was neither a chatty man nor a stoic one, but it would help to gauge her condition based on her response to him. “It protected you well. The army could use such talent.”

From his side, he could see the ugly scar marring her face. He had seen the bruise on her arm, and it disturbed him greatly to think that he had put both there. His tone was still pleasant, but his eyes lingered on the gash, “My apologies, I seem to be committing errors frequently today. I am Dimitri-Josèphe. Now you know the name of the man who almost ran you over.”

A pity; he hadn't wanted anyone knowing his name until he'd had time to greet the King and Queen. He had omitted any clue-giving titles and estates, but the lady deserved at least a name to curse in the privacy of her chambers.

[Fayreview]

“It is the least I could do, Madame.” The Duc offered his arm, and with great dignity and authority he lead her slowly through the group of people who had been called to her aid. Despite how she looked she was actually quite proud so many people can to see her, before she reflected that they perhaps had come for the sake of laughing at her. He adjusted his long strides according to her capacity, the perfect gentleman well really he had to be nice to her considering.

“When you are in the condition to, I hope to acquire the name of the maker of your lovely dress,” Dimitri spoke lightly. “It protected you well. The army could use such talent.”

Mercy gave a half laugh "oh you will be getting her name, along with a bill for repairs, for this particular dress was a gift from the Duchess de Clothide Parma and I shall expect you to have it returned to its previous condition." she sought to work out how much of a sense of humour her new companion had, she wasn't joking and hecould not refuse, but he could take it three ways with anger, genuine remorse or in jest, she sensed his response. ((Left this open so you can decide what his response will bethough if i have a feel for the way this character is going I have an inkling as to the response.))

Her blue eyes sparkled with the mans attention, she felt her study him, he then spoke again his tone still pleasant, but his eyes lingered on the gash, “My apologies, I seem to be committing errors frequently today. I am Dimitri-Josèphe. Now you know the name of the man who almost ran you over.”

"Well Dimitri-Josephe" she stretched it slowly as if to mock his first name. "You may call me Baroness Venn," she gave her maiden name, in the situation it just seemed right, it had come to her tongue so freely. "The cut is not your fault of course, and neither is the bruise on my arm" she said without looking at him she gazed forward down the passage too soon they would turn past the blue salon and be upon the step of her own rooms. "I had a mishap yesterday with a vase. Thankfully the Queen was kind enough to forgive me for it." Her door appeared in front of her, "I have always loved that painting" she pointed to a mountain scape on the outer wall of the Blue Salon, she paused and let him look at it. If he ever wished to seek her company again that painting would tell him he was in the right place. "Well I shall let you return to your business. It has been... interesting," without even waiting for Dimitri-Josephe to respond she had slipped through her door and closed it gently in his face, she smiled inwardly but chided herself, he was handsome and rather charming but apparently he felt no need to disclose his position in society to her, which emant he did not have one, or he did not wish to talk about it...

((Hope that's OK Seiza. Just to be confusing you have a woman's title and a maiden name which is only known by one member of the court, Baroness Taylor and i have the first name of a mysterious name who will always be reffered to as Duc d'Lorraine, so really your only chance of getting some recogntion is to mention the incidents, either the running over or the vase collisionwhich of course the Queen is aware of (as is the Prince unkknown to you. Wow, talk about a confusing first conversation ))

[Seiza]

"oh you will be getting her name, along with a bill for repairs, for this particular dress was a gift from the Duchess de Clothide Parma and I shall expect you to have it returned to its previous condition,” the Madame laughed.

Dimitri let his brow rise in genuine interest at the name—if he recalled correctly, she was referring to the famous (or infamous, or both, as was often the case in this country) douarière. Truly, this Madame was not what she seemed: she laughed in the face of pain and ruined dresses, and received gifts from a Duchess.

“I believe myself capable of, if not hiring more careful drivers, at least repairing your brilliant dress, Madame,” the Duc promised. His tone remained light, but there was no frivolity in it. Where the lady was laughing, he could not bring himself to. Dimitri had a strict code of conduct, and ruining women’s dresses was not one of them. This would have to be remedied at the earliest possible time.

“You may call me Baroness Venn.” Ah, now he had a name! That made things much easier. But then, she stopped before her room. “Well I shall let you return to your business. It has been... interesting.”

The door closed with a rather final, resounding click.

Dimitri remained staring at it, unperturbed. Then he spoke, knowing his deep voice would carry over, as if speaking to slabs of thick wood were an everyday normality for him. “It has been my pleasure, Baronness Venn. As soon as I have settled my affairs, I shall seek you out about your dress at your earliest convenience.” He would have to send a note to her, as even he did not know which suite the King would give him.

He made a note of the painting the Baronness loved, before returning to the entrance hall. Dimitri was ushered to the Grand Salon, where he was requested to await the King’s summons.

______

((Forgot to add: Approachable for a brief chat for the afternoon. *is typing up a meeting with the King in the meantime*))

Wow, talk about a confusing first conversation
((Indeed, this is the stuff of courtly nightmare! Dimitri's going to think himself insane when almost no one knows who Baronness Venn is. :lol: Depending on what the King and our lovely Queen decide to do, Mercy may find out Dimitri's identity before he does hers! (Well, I think she's got enough magic powers to do it anyway...)

Oh, and just to confirm, we are referring to the banished Duchess Marie (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1025097&postcount=72) who gave the dress, right?

I was procrastinating on work-- ahem, skimming through the original Baroque thread when I found this nifty list of references (http://forums.sims2community.com/showpost.php?p=1026996&postcount=106) to the Baroque era that eternal posted. Thought it might deserve another mention, since it's a useful link for people to build their characters from.))

[littlesunshine123xx]

Fleur was out in the gardens. Admiring the beautiful grounds. They where covered in a blanket of snow. Fleur liked the cold weather, the heat of summer was to sickly for her. With tight corsets and heavy dresses the weather was unbearable in Fleurs opinion.

She had wrapped herself in her fur overcoat. Her husband had sent it along with his last letter. Well he was always good for one thing, if nothing else Fleur thought to herself.
She moved over to the frozen fountain. Leaning over it she placed her hand on the icy layer above the water. The ice stung and she had forgotten to wear her gloves. Her hands turned a shade of scarlett. She moved her gaze to the ground which she stood on. The flowers where out of bloom, laying dead and frozen under the blanket of snow. Fleur felt the same, like she too was being suffocated by an invisible layer of snow. But the snow in her case was her husband. He had killed the Fleur that had once bloomed so beautifully.

She hated this place as much as she hated home. She hated him more for placing her here. There had been some scandal in the court, but Fleur had no part in it or knew much about it. She wished she could gossip like the rest of the court, or pretend to be interested in the Prince's state. But she cared for neither.

She was due her own scandal any day soon surely, wasnt she? Maybe then her life would have some fun and passion injected into it. But she knew the effect scandals had in the end, she would have to be careful this time.#

(approachable)


(OOC: Edited so its winter :) ohh and fleur actually means flower in french so thats why she links with the flowers as well )

[Fayreview]

((That's the one Seiza, my first blackmail victim!!! I should be more clear Mercy has purposefully always got the Duchesses name wrong as a play for power.))

Mercy smiled from the otherside of the door. He spoke clearly and crisply to her, once he was gone she slipped out of her high shoes and of the sodden blue dress, it was odd but she had hardly noticed how wet it was during her brief walk with Dimitri, and now she hardly cared the state it was in. She poured water from the porcelain jug on the stand into the matching bowl and proceeded to wash before drying herself and switching to her beautiful dove-grey dress, she reapplied make up to her face, touching up the cut on her face ever so slightly as it had healed enough to allow a gentle coat. she applied more make-up to her arm to cover the bruise.

She was about to put the same shoes on when she noticed a crack in the heel. She, with extreme difficulty, bent and picked the shoe up and examined it. The crack was quite visible but was on a section that was not meant to provide support, the were a gift from her husband and now Dimitri's crazy driver had succeed at changing them... was it a sign? She shook her head and called Helena, stressing that she wanted the shoes cleaned and nothing more. She retrieved a different pair of shoes that were slightly lower, there was no way she could walk around in high ones after her accidents of the past two days.

She set off once more for the orangery, this time she was more careful nd made it through to the warm room, she was warm and happy and she could still stare out at a winter landscape that was blanketed with snow, making it all seem... beautiful.

[Seiza]

((littlesunshine: Maybe you can have Fleur walking in the Orangery instead? It's like a greenhouse, and that's where flowers are still blooming. Oh, I really like your edited post! Didn't know that "fleur" = flower myself, very nice.

Fayre: LOL! Marie shall have THAT honour that no one can take away, at least. XD

EDIT: I can't believe it. I've been online all day, and now it's 11pm where I am, and NOW we have 5 people viewing this thread. I hate timezones. :eviltongu ))
______

Duc Dimitri was led to King Edouard’s study by one of the younger aids. He kept his gaze straight, but through the magic of peripheral vision, he could tell when the boy’s eyes flicked nervously towards him, look-not-looking at him. Dimitri supposed, with a long-suffering mental sigh, that these younger servants were not exposed to nobles who openly bore scars on their faces, but who instead hid them behind powders like women.

Dimitri took an appropriate number of steps into the study. King Edouard was at his windows, oddly enough. Or perhaps, considering the circumstances, it was only natural. The King turned and gasped. “I was informed that an old friend had come, but instead I greet a walking skeleton!”

Dimitri was not like the boy; although he noted the King’s bent shoulders and strained voice, he did not give away his observations. He replied dryly, “It is only that your courtiers are too fat, Your Majesty. My cooks keep me sufficiently fed, I assure you.”

“Only with bread and wine, likely.” While Edouard’s tone was already more amiable than his public persona, it did not have the friendliness that was typical between them. After Dimitri’s long absence from the court, it seemed the King needed time before he could truly relax himself within his presence. “You are the only person I know who grows thinner in times of peace.”

“I don’t digest peace as well as others, I suppose.”

The two men sat themselves down. They did not speak while a servant poured glistening wine from a gold decanter. They still did not speak until Edouard finished two glasses in succession, which Dimitri tactfully refrained from mentioning. In his short time at the Grand Salon, he had heard many unsavoury things. He hadn’t wanted to believe such malicious rumours, despite the sobriety of the castle and the lack of festivities; but seeing Edouard now...

“You must know by now.”

“Yes.” Dimitri replied promptly, coolly, though his heart despaired. “However, I hope you will understand if I do not offer condolences just yet.”

“Nor would I want you to.”

Dimitri was not optimistic by nature, but for Adalita, he would turn every prayer he had towards her recovery. The men exchanged pleasantries. They settled old fencing disputes. After the disturbing conversations permeating the Grand Salon, Dimitri wanted to know many things—most importantly, the actual name of the Prince, and all these whisperings about an “attempted murder”—but could find no point at which Edouard looked ready to provide answers. And so the questions remained unasked, and the topic returned to families.

Dimitri did not want to remind the King of his ill daughter, but it was rude enough to have waited this long to ask about the next member of the royal family. “And how is the fair Queen? I have not seen her since...”

“You haven’t met her?” Edouard started beckoning. “I shall send for her immediately.”

“There is no need to hurry,” Dimitri assured. “You must all be very... tired. I have not even seen my suite yet. I would like to be more presentable when I meet the Queen. I doubt she appreciates the scent of a man stuck for thirty hours in a damp, closed carriage.”

Edouard looked at him, and his eyes suddenly seemed very tired, indeed. “Very well. Do make yourself available soon, however. I should like you two to meet before dinner.” Then his eyes turned inward, and glinted, and it almost seemed to Dimitri that the King was getting An Idea...

______

((Still approachable for a while, around the east wing of suites that house the ducs and duchesses.

Considering they didn't have any news press at that time, I assume it'll take a slightly long time for the rest of the country to realise that Adalita had married Octavian and not Silvius. Longer than a week, at any rate. Dimitri, like everyone else, had gotten an invitation to a marriage to Silvius. His estate is also rather far removed from the Palace, so add another hurdle towards his news-gathering skeelz.))

[littlesunshine123xx]

Fleur decided to move into The Orangery. The weather outside had became to chilly even for her liking. She couldnt run the risk of falling ill. She made her way into the Orangery.

She smiled as she stepped into the Orangery. There was hundreds of flowers of different colours and shapes blooming infront of her. Was this a sign, that there was hope for her after all. That she too could bloom again even against the cold snow (aka her husband). She picked a soft rose and felt the smooth petal against her fingers. Lifting it to her nose she breathed in the beautiful scent from the rose. It reminded her of the old days, the days where she had been loved by the only person that she had ever cared for.

She felt her eyes sting and tears welled up inside (http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y44/odunican/barqoue%20court/7-0039.jpg). She shut her eyes and titled her head back trying to stop the tears from falling. She was not alone in the greenhouse. Another woman was there with her to. A little older than Fleur possibly. The woman seemed to be looking at Fleur curiously, probably wondering who Fleur was, or why she was crying. Fleur puller herself together and turned to the lady and smiled. It was a half hearted smile, but she tried to seem as pleasant as possible.

((Edit: i wont have Fleur talk to Mercy just yet but she has still smiled at her and noticed her so they can still rp together later, if u fancy))

[Mahenveau]

((I'll have Amelie approach Fleur. She seems nice. ;) ))
The halls felt empty as she roamed them, but she felt as there was nothing else to do.
Amelie fetched her overcoat and and traveled to the Courtyard Fountain, however the fountain wasn't full of water, and it only looked dead.
The chilled air caressed her face and her nose, and decided to turn around back in because of the chill. But in her swift move to look backward, she spotted Fleur, observing flowers, her most favored view ever since she was a child.
She smiled and headed to the orangery. There was a sudden rush of humid warm air as the door opened, and an aroma unlike any other.
Amelie immediately decided that this was going to be her favorite place.
"Good afternoon, Comtess Baisez-Corazón," Amelie said in a pleasant voice, bowing low to the comtess.

[littlesunshine123xx]

"Good afternoon, Comtess Baisez-Corazón," a voice said behind Fleur. She wasnt sure who the voice belonged to. She hardly knew who was who in the court and had spoke to almost no one since she had arrived.

A young lady stood behind her and as Fleur turned around she bowed and Fleur felt uneasy. "I do not think we have meet before. Though you know my name, tell me how is that?" Fleur asked confused. She was anxious of the other woman (Mercy??) behind her, Fleur had been meaning to try and find out who she was. But that would have to wait a moment. She could not be rude to the other girl (Amelie) infront of her.

[Fayreview]

Mercy waited patiently for the two girls to talk. And busied herself with the hydraynga bush. She wondered what the pink colouring would look like against the Irises she had already collected, oh well she had time to work upon that. After all what else was the Baroness going to do with herself today?

((I know it's not long enough but it's really just me implying Mercy will wait))

[Mahenveau]

Amelie saw the Comtess look a little somewhat confused, and she responded to her with a bow. "I do not think we have meet before. Though you know my name, tell me how is that?" Fleur asked her. "I picked up a good fraction of everyone's names when I can here, and I recognized you right away," Amelie said.
Amelie quickly noticed Ms. Flight, and addressed her right away. "And good afternoon to you, Ms. Mercy." She said with another low bow.


((thanks Shenanigans ;) ))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Mahenveau - I understand you're new to the RP, and it may take a bit to get started. But NO ONE besides the Queen and His old friend, talk to the king. NO ONE.

This was stated clearly in the second post of the thread that introduces the king. The only people who have access to him is the Queen and his old friend.
Granted it used to say Princess, but still.

This RP is thick and complicated. Please be sure to read over the first two posts, several times if you must. This isn't just directed at you, it's for everyone who's newer in the palace.

I need you to find a different way to have your character know everything she knows please. ))

[littlesunshine123xx]

"When I can here, the King told me who everyone was when I came here. I recognized you right away," Amelie replied and Fleur let out a small "oh" before looking down at the floor.Amelie then turned her eye to the other woman and bowed. "And good afternoon to you, Ms. Mercy." She said to the woman. Fleur looked up at Ms.Mercy. She had heard her name used in the court before. She had also heard Ms.Mercy was a terrible flirt and a gossiper. "Ms.Mercy, Comtess Fleur Baisez-Corazón pleasure to finally become aquainted with you." Fleur said poliety and bowed.

"I do not think you have introduced yourself yet. It seems awfully rude that you know our names but I do not know yours." Fleur said to the younger girl (Amelie)

[Mahenveau]

"My dearest apologies, I am Duchess Amelie Du Polingac." She said, bowing her head.
She turned to a bush of roses, and leaned down to sniff them. "Lovely roses," Amelie said. "It's a pity that the winter has killed most flowers outside." she continued. There were waves of flowers, irises, roses, daisies, lilies, so many that were absolutely beautiful. Not only was the sight beautiful, but the smell was also.

[littlesunshine123xx]

"My dearest apologies, I am Duchess Amelie Du Polingac." She said, bowing her head. Fleur bowed also.

Amelie turned to a bush of roses, and leaned down to sniff them. "Lovely roses," shesaid. "It's a pity that the winter has killed most flowers outside." she continued. Fleur nodded and joined her at the flower bed. "Yes it is a pity" Fleur replied and looked out of the greenhouse window and sighed. "But prehaps if the spring is kind then they shall bloom just as beautiful as ever" Fleur said turning back to the roses and smiled down at them. She still had one of the roses from the rose bush in her hand and the pricks where pushing down on her palm.

"Duchess Amelie Du Polingac, I hope you do not mind I inquring but how did you come about moving to the court. Or have you always lived here? I was under the impression you are also new to the court, as am I" Fleur asked Amelie curiously.

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Another quote from the first post of the thread.
All RPs must have a minimum of 8 lines. You are encouraged to build conversations via PM then post them in the thread if need be.
Please! :) ))

[Fayreview]

Mercy raised her eyebrows, firstly she had always been Madame Flight and secondly, she too had a title, true it wasn't as flashy as the two younger womens but it was just as valid. True Mercy had not recieved it in the normal manner threatening the postion of the almost Prince to the point where his love out of desperation sought to appease her but that was of course a secret.

She did not have the energy however to correct the girls and decided to let them eventually realise their mistake from another source. She merely bowed to the young women, "they are not dead merely dormant until spring my dear, fortunately they will return when it comes again. I shall leave you in peace now I have a bouquet to put together." Mercy walked slowly away from the women, with a sudden urge to speak to the Queen about her meagre title.

((I'm playing about Shenan, she won't and i don't expect anything from you!))

[Haylifer]

((*rushes to Notepad.exe in horror at it being afternoon already* I SHOULD NOT SLEEP/EAT/GO SHOPPING xD Speedy people. I'll edit here with a RP. I know I'm a spammy beast but I have only the best intentions, and I'm ever so slightly hyper right now.))

I took another mouthful of Cognac, deliberating over the flavour. Not the best bottle my men ever produced, but I'm certain it wasn't the worst. I would have to have words with them later over allowing the sale of second-best spirits to the Palace. The brandy didn't take too long to begin its effect. I felt much calmer, much more suave and excellent as it settled those damn nerves. It was just as well, for the next few statements could have rendered me thoroughly lost-for-words had I lacked that artificial confidence boost.

“I have so missed your antics Felix.” said Isabella, putting her glass down. I felt myself redden slightly; embarrasing it may be, a compliment from the Queen was a sure indication that other things were playing on her mind, defocusing her probably. That statement might have caught me off guard slightly, but the one that followed was one much more difficult to deal with. I'd been expecting the question to come at some point, perhaps a few hours ago I even wished for it, but I was nevertheless unprepared to answer correctly.

“Many things have changed while you’ve been gone Comte. While I do appreciate the fact that you have returned, I wish to know what kept you away, and more importantly why you’ve returned.” she said, studying him.

Did I lie to her, exploiting her trust in me in order to buy more time? Or did I tell her the truth and place even more stress on her mind? It was a tough dilemma, one that was made even harder to solve by that damned brandy. If only there was a way to vaguely answer the question, satisfying her mind and not giving away too many potentially harmful details... But then again, the sooner I told someone about it, the greater chance there was for things to be put right. Before something terrible happened. It was just a tragedy that Isabella was the woman I had to tell.

"Why I've returned? Well, the truth is..." I started, playing with the rim of the glass nervously as I decided how to go about this. "Back when I left the Palace several months ago, something came up. I think you might recall, I left to go investigate a certain golden quill, which took me to the marketplace. It was only on the way back to the Palace, I came across a familiar face..."

I went on with the story, becoming ever more expressive and enthusiastic in my illustration of the saga with the more brandy I drunk. I told Isabella of how I'd stopped for a quick drink at an inn when the man approached me, stating that he recognised me as a courtier and would like a small favour. He seemed to know lots about my brother, Silvius - particularly the negative relationship me and him held. Using this as some kind of bribe, he went into further detail about that 'small favour'. I flatly refused to take orders from such a seedy lowlife, telling him where to go and leaving the inn quickly. But curiosity barred my immediate return to the palace; I followed the man under the guise of Monsieur Thénarde, finding out his name, what he planned to do, and more importantly why. I overheard conversations between him and his associates, a few of whom I recognised well. As the dirty plot developed, I spent more and more time in that inn, listening intently to those meetings. Finally, I had heard enough - enough to rush back to the palace and have the man convicted. I may have been too late, though.

I finished the tale along with the last of the Cognac, letting Isabella digest the information I'd just given her.

((EDIT: RP added as promised :D))

[SwirlyHill]

(( Hey guys, I think I'm gonna drop out of this, to be honest it's a bit above my level of writing. Thanks, I'll write a leaving RP for Lilian if you like :) ))

[Fayreview]

((We're of course sorry to lose anyone from this roleplay but sometimes the dynamic just isn't their, so good luck else where!))

[Mahenveau]

"Hopefully so," Amelie agreed as she caressed the petals of a pale rose, admiring its perfection.
"they are not dead merely dormant until spring my dear, fortunately they will return when it comes again. I shall leave you in peace now I have a bouquet to put together." Mercy said. "I'm glad to hear so, it would be a shame indeed if they had died. I bid farewell," Amelie replied as she bowed to Mercy.
"Duchess Du Polingac, I hope you do not mind I inquring but how did you come about moving to the court. Or have you always lived here? I was under the impression you are also new to the court, as am I" Fleur asked her. "I don't mind at all. I came from Versaillies, where I was born. I'm indeed new...and it's quite different, I must say. Ettiquite is much more radical and extreme, but I'm willing to adjust." Amelie said.
Amelie walked a little more down the row of rosebushes to the irises, one of her personal favorite flowers, and swooped down to sniff them.
"All of these flowers are absolutely delightful. I wish I had enough time to plant them myself, but unfortunately I don't. It would be marvelous to have a personal garden of my own," She said in a dreamy voice.

[littlesunshine123xx]

"All of these flowers are absolutely delightful. I wish I had enough time to plant them myself, but unfortunately I don't. It would be marvelous to have a personal garden of my own," Amelie said in a dreamy voice. "If I had anything of my own it would be a miracle." Fleur said quietly.

"Have you yet became aquainted with the King or any of the royals for that matter? I do hear they are the most charming and beautiful people you shall ever meet. But then the people of court would say that, if they wanted to keep their heads" Fleur laughed as she began to stroll down the aisle.

[Shenanigans_SC]

Isabella listened cautiously as Felix recalled all the details of his time away from the Palace. Isabella’s mind was soon focused on what he had to say, as it really was something of the utmost importance. Unlike the Comte, she did not have the calming affects of brandy to help her digest all he had to say. If he was any other courtier she would have asked him seven times over if he was sure he had heard all of that clearly. Was he positive such a diabolical plot was truth and not the mere fantasy of a rejected man? But this was Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes, the very man who had gone on many undercover missions for her. Each and every time he had done his job admirably so. She had no reason to not believe him.

After he finished his tale, Isabella stood, beginning to pace the room. What he had divulged to her was most serious indeed. There was a traitor in their midst, one who appeared to serve them faithfully, yet was truly willing to do anything for a high enough price. Who was to say that revenge on Adalita would be enough to quench this mad man? Would the satisfaction of bringing down a member of the royal family only give way to greater desires?

Though this all seemed to come about thanks to the Princess’ indiscression and carelessness, action needed to be taken none the less. However she did not wish to be the person to bear such news to Edouard. No doubt to do so would shatter his heart, the one that refused to acknowledge his daughter for what she was, and for how he had failed her.

“Comte, I commend you for returning to inform me off such plots.” She began to address him. “I fear it may to be late for the Princess, but we need to be sure that the deed is paid back in full.” She looked to him, asking him if he understood the full meaning of her statement. Satisfied that he indeed did, she continued. “When you find the party responsible, I want you to return,” a knock on the Salon doors interrupted her before she could finish. She looked to the opening doors, annoyance written all over her face.

“Pardon me, Your Maj…” the servant began before being interrupted.

“Do you not see that I am busy?” she demanded.

“Yes, I do, I’m sorry Your Highness, but the King himself has sent me.”

The servant’s statement caught Isabella a by surprise, “Continue then.”

“He wishes for you to meet with him in his Salon at your earliest convenience, Your Majesty.”

Isabella nodded her understanding and shooed him out of the room. As the servant produced his low bow and quickly shut the doors Isabella struggled to find where she had just been with her words. Edouard sending for her was a rarity at best, and she feared the worst. He could have bad news about Adalita, or Octavien, or perhaps he had seen her struggle to get to Octavien’s suite. Isabella suddenly felt very heavy.

Her eyes quickly returned to Felix as she began to approach him. “I’m sorry, it appears my husband suddenly requires my presence.” She stood only a foot away from him, taking the nearly empty glass from his hand. “Not a word of any of this to the King.” Her eyes bore into his, communicating she meant business and also reminding him that her business always proved to be very rewarding. “And when you’ve found the party responsible, I want you to send word to me at once.” She suddenly lifted the glass to her lips, throwing her head back and swallowing the contents that had remained in the glass.

As he uttered his understanding she handed the glass back to him, then turned on her heels to make her way towards the King’s Salon. The day was but half done and it had already held more than a normal person could bear. All night she had not slept, the pain of the evening before denied her the comfort of sleep. Then, news of Adalita’s “illness”, an attempt made on Octavien’s life, the revealing of a traitor in their midst, and now Edouard wished her presence. She prolonged her neck, holding her head high as any dignified woman would. There was a reason she bore the title of Queen, she would do it justice.

As she neared the King’s Salon the servants opened the door for her. Her eyes looked expectantly in the room for Edouard’s form. Her brows rose and the usual polite smile planted it’s self on her lips when she realized he was not alone in the room. The men rose to greet her as she made her way to her husband’s side, her hands clasped regally in front of her.

“Isabella…” the king called her name, feigning delight at her presence. “Do you recall my old friend Duc d’Lorraine?” Isabella looked towards him politely as he gave a slight bow. The man seemed vaguely familiar to her, but she could not recall where she knew him from. Though it was most unlady like to forget someone who seemed so important to the King, she took comfort in the fact that at least she had not had relations with him.

[Seiza]

Dimitri went to his suite immediately after. To his chagrin, he spent the entirety of the time washing (which was fine) and being dressed by a troop of servants for the meeting with the King and Queen (which was not so fine). Just before departing for the King’s Salon, his aid returned with news collected from the palace grounds. When Dimitri sat with Edouard later that afternoon, he was armed with slightly more information than before, but he was no less disturbed.

They hadn’t much time to speak—certainly not enough for the Duc to analyse the glint he was certain existed in his lord’s eye—when the doors opened, and the Queen Consort entered. As they rose to greet her, Dimitri was like a black shadow beside the King’s immaculate white clothes and that ever-present powdered wig. His black hair was tied back in a loose ribbon (not more than one, he told an insistent servant); his suit was dark and well-cut.

The Duc took in the Queen’s dress and bearing with approval: if even half the rumours in the Grand Salon were true, then Isabella was holding up remarkably well in his eyes.

“Do you recall my old friend Duc d’Lorraine?” Edouard introduced him. Anything amiable about him had disappeared. Dimitri sighed inside. Edouard still didn’t realise his wife and Queen was not another audience to act before.

The Duc did not like people wasting time, bandying about silly chit-chat while desperately attempting to remember something about someone. He would save the young Queen the embarrassment of having to guess. He bowed low.

“I oversee the province of Lorraine, Your Majesty, to the far west of your domains. We have the most beautiful forests to walk, the fattest deer to hunt and the most intricate embroideries. I do not believe Your Majesties have visited, but the invitation has always been opened.”

Then he smiled politely, his next words ending the formal introduction. “But I am sure the Queen has more important issues on her mind than to remember an old man like myself. I merely am a friend of the King. We studied together.”

“This is the scoundrel, my dear, who attended our wedding but did not even stay for the hors d'œuvre.”

“An estate needs its overseer,” Dimitri explained simply.

He was terribly calmer than usual around the Queen, like a serene mountain in the horizon, and indeed he was taller than either royal. He did not know what skittish deer might exist under Isabella's royal demeanour, and so he only gestured to take her hand, so that he might kiss it, and then they could all sit down; but he did not snatch it from her side, in case she had no desire to be greeted as such.

______

((Haylifer: Anything from Felix is worth the OOC and wait! *wants to pinch his cheeks so bad*))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: lol Seiza- I love how you tune into Edouard. However, Dimitri will eventually learn, there’s no skittish dear in that pretty little queen. :p ))

“I oversee the province of Lorraine, Your Majesty, to the far west of your domains. We have the most beautiful forests to walk, the fattest deer to hunt and the most intricate embroideries.” The Duc listed the fine points of his land as if they would help Isabella remember how she knew of the man. “I do not believe Your Majesties have visited, but the invitation has always been opened.”

That would be Edouard’s fault. Isabella had always loved the idea of going about, seeing lands other than their own. But Edouard would not hear of it. He was quite content holed up in the Palace of his. However, she would not allow her eyes nor her words relay the fact.

“But I am sure the Queen has more important issues on her mind than to remember an old man like myself. I merely am a friend of the King. We studied together.”

Isabella smiled and nodded her head about to greet him properly when Edouard abruptly interrupted her. “This is the scoundrel, my dear, who attended our wedding but did not even stay for the hors d’oeuvre.” Now that Edouard had given her the where of how she knew the Duc, the pieces started to return to her. She realized that she stood in the presence of a man whom Edouard highly esteemed. She much pictured Edouard following him around like a lost puppy, wishing to belong to him. She had tired of hearing so much about him that she was actually pleased when he reattached himself to his beloved Duc of Mollier. How times change.

“An estate needs its overseer.” The Duc quickly excused his shortness at their wedding as he gestured his willingness to place a kiss of greeting on her fair hand.

She raised her hand signaling her willingness, and her pleasure in the fact she finally had her turn to speak. “How could I possibly forget the tales of the legendary Dimitri, Duc d’Lorraine?” she spoke as he took her hand. She wished to make a comment in jest of Edouard’s tales of his friend, however she decided against it.

As the three of them prepared to sit, Isabella was curious as to the exact reason Edouard had sent for her. Did he see his friend’s arrival as something that needed her prompt attention, forgetting the fact that his daughter was to be seen after, and that there had been an attempt on the Prince this day? Was he really so short sighted that he felt she had nothing better to do? Whatever Edouard’s reasoning, or lack thereof, she would have to dwell on it later. Now was her time to play polite hostess, and ever perfect wife. A mask she had perfected some time ago.

“Rest assured my husband holds you in the highest regard’, she started politely. “It is a rarity that he wishes I meet any of his guests. What, may I ask, do we owe gratitude to as the cause of your visit?”

[Seiza]

((Whoa! Did anyone else get a scary "forbidden" message for the night? I've been trying to access the site like crazy! Man, if I don't get back on, someone please find me on lynnchama[AT]gmail[DOT]com.

Swirly, I'm sad to see you go, but good luck with other RPs!

Shenan: Well! Let's hope Dimitri won't have to learn that first-hand, eh? ;)

Atropa, I figure if anyone will know what happened to the 'murderer', it will be the King. He didn't mention any names, but if you'd still like it removed, just PM me and I'll edit that part. :) ))
______

“How could I possibly forget the tales of the legendary Dimitri, Duc d’Lorraine?”

He was amused. Young Edouard once bothered him extensively about his “stories,” but never did he imagine those same tales would be told to this young queen. To a son, perhaps; but not to Isabella, with whom he had conversed once, on her wedding day, and barely any more thereafter. Dimitri bowed again at her compliment.

“I hope Your Majesty remembers only the legendarily good, not the legendarily bad.”

“Rest assured my husband holds you in the highest regard.” Isabella was properly gracious. “It is a rarity that he wishes I meet any of his guests. What, may I ask, do we owe gratitude to as the cause of your visit?”

“I came to offer my congratulations for your daughter’s wedding. Unfortunately, a host of transportation mishaps delayed me extensively, so I just arrived this afternoon.” His eyes turned sympathetic. “I have also just found out the Princess’ condition.”

“How is she?” Edouard asked his wife.

“The physicians remain with her,” the Queen looked down, but returned to the men a soft, solemn gaze. “But there is always hope, my lord.”

“I only pray she was not disturbed by the commotion. I don’t suppose you heard, Dimitri? An attempt was made on the Prince’s life in his own suite.”

“Ah...” the Duc breathed, surprised and a little aghast that Edouard spoke so openly about this. In front of his wife, no less! “It is a popular topic among your courtiers right now. I presume Prince Octavian is all right?”

“I believe so. I was informed the Prince ordered the man imprisoned.”

Edouard and Isabella didn’t even blink at the name, which confirmed at least one of his questions: Adalita had indeed married Comte Octavian Lahance, not Duc Silvius Peitou-Charentes. It was a truly odd situation (an attempted murder wasn’t nearly so, in Dimitri’s experience), but one he would file away for now. While Isabella was quiet, Dimitri mulled over this information. However, the King seemed unusually chatty today, and spoke over their silence:

“A dreadful affair, all of this. Your arrival strikes me the one positive sign of the new year, Duc, which I shall not waste. You mayn’t have heard, but I have long searched for someone capable of taking up the departed Duc d’Mollier’s position. With the assistance of my fair Queen.” Dimitri raised an eyebrow. Surely he wouldn’t be asked to...

“I will be frank: it has been quite futile. Yet despite what has happened, I will continue the search. I wish that you stay and help us.”

“Edoua—Your Majesty!” Dimitri almost forgot his place, although his exclamation was controlled into a murmur. The King knew he didn’t stay at court for a reason, so to be asked to do this! “But my estate—”

“Do not think me unaware of the horde of competent managers you have at your disposal.” The King spoke with some joviality, but under it laid a near-order.

Dimitri had no illusions of his choice in the matter. But he took long enough to answer, considering everything from the cost of travel to the reaction of Her Majesty herself at this, clearly, surprising suggestion. Edouard seemed to remember her too; Dimitri saw him looking at her, and could only assume he was seeking her support.

[funheart00]

((ooc;; If anyone is still looking for somewhere to jump in, feel free to approach Roseline - she's in the hallway ... somewhere ;)))

[Shenanigans_SC]

Isabella had asked the Duc d’Lorraine politely about the reason for his visit. A question that was partly fueled out of proper cordiality and partially out of sincere curiosity.

“I came to offer my congratulations for your daughter’s wedding. Unfortunately, a host of transportation mishaps delayed me extensively, so I just arrived this afternoon.” Isabella’s polite regal smile decreased a little in size as she knew the conversation was bound to turn to Adalita’s ill fate. “I have also just found out the Princess’ condition.”

There it was. “How is she?” Edouard asked of her.

“The physicians remain with her,” her eyes dropped slightly. With what she knew, she doubted the princess could possibly pull through. But she would not allow Edouard to see her admit defeat so easily. She returned her gaze to her company along with a solemn smile. “But, there is always hope my lord.”

“I only pray she was not disturbed by the commotion.” Edouard continued. “I don’t suppose you heard, Dimitri? An attempt was made on the Prince’s life in his own suite.” Isabella looked towards the king startled. To speak of such things quite plainly and openly, perhaps the grief for his daughter had managed to affect his reasoning.

Her eyes soon darted from Edouard to Dimitri, if she had read his expression correctly, his thoughts weren’t that much different than her own. "Ah… It is a popular topic among your courtiers right now.”

I bet it is. Isabella thought to herself. “I presume Prince Octavien is all right?” Isabella continued to sit silently, as if she were not in the room at all. “I believe so. I was informed the Prince ordered the man imprisoned.” I want him hung. she continued to think to herself, her face and demeanor not giving the slightest hint that she had any thoughts about the matter at all.

As Edouard quickly changed topics to that of the seemingly ever vacant advisor’s position, Isabella was left to brew in her thoughts. The day was so filled with strife, but one thing stood out above the rest. She wished to see personally the condition Octavien was in. “With the assistance of my fair Queen.” Edouard’s statement demanded her attention once again.

“I will be frank: it has been quite futile. Yet despite what has happened, I will continue the search. I wish that you stay and help us.” That statement did more than demand her attention. It grabbed a firm hold of and shook her.

“Edoua- Your Majesty!” Dimitri’s statement did not quite match the surprise in Isabella’s own mind. “But my estate-“

Yes! Her mind wished to holler. His estate! His forests full of fat deer! Do not keep the man here against his wishes! Though she was riled interiorly, her exterior only showed a look of surprise with wide eyes.

“Do not think me unaware of the horde of competent managers you have at your disposal.” Edouard interrupted. The man was usually such a weak diplomat, bending and giving to whatever breeze blew that day. What a fine time for him to find his back bone.

That’s when the look on Edouard’s face registered with her. He was expecting her full support in such matters. Though every inch of her disliked the very core of the idea, she simply smiled towards him, communicating she understood his wishes. Her gaze returned to Duc d’Lorraine as she quickly settled any nervousness she may have had, making sure none of them came through her voice.

With her warm welcoming smile she addressed Dimitri, “It seems my husband, the King, is intent you make up for your absence at weddings by staying with us longer. Please do consider it, as I fear the Princess may require more of my presence in short time.”

Whatever opposition the Duc once held towards Edouard’s suggestion, it quickly melted away after Isabella’s words. With a simple nod he conceded, “I shall send for more belongings.”

“Good, good…” Edouard stood shaking Dimitri’s hand, and continuing to babble on about looking forward to the times they would spend together, and the tales they would have to pass along. Isabella had stood as well, as to not seem impolite, the royal glad smile firmly on her face. Interiorly she tried to console herself. This didn’t have to be a bad thing. She was assuming Dimitri’s ideas of what was best for their kingdom would clash with her own. Perhaps she would be pleasantly surprised and their views aligned more than she thought.

As those thoughts ran through her mind, she had absentmindedly followed the unlikely duo to the salon doors. She quickly concluded that she had to meet with Duc d’Lorraine without Edouard in their presence. It was the only possible way she could get a good feel for if this man would be her friend or foe. Now that Comte Charantes had returned, she had every intention to pull him up the ranks. He was going to be the King’s advisor, that was all there was to it in her mind.

“Duc d’Lorraine,” she began during a lull in Edouard’s seemingly ceaseless chatter once they now stood in the doorway of his Salon. “I wish to give you a proper introduction to our Palace. Since you will be staying with us for some time it is my duty and privilege to make sure you are well acquainted with your temporary home.” She clasped her hands together in front of her, lowering her voice a little in preparation for the next sentence. “However, as I’m sure you can rightly understand, there are matters I must see to this afternoon. Will you please grant me the pleasure of your company tomorrow morning?” she looked to him with the same look she had had when attempting to persuade him to stay. If it worked once, surely it would work again.

((OOC: Seiza- After he's accepted or denied, feel free to part ways. Or, bring up something else if you like. :) ))

[Fayreview]

((Seiza I may have to kill, you my darling Mercy is merely a 'transportation mishap' huh? :P ))

[Seiza]

As Edouard chattered on and on, Dimitri was beginning to suspect it wasn’t the desire to unleash his plan that loosened his tongue at such a rate, but the earlier wine.

It was miserable, he felt, to watch a man’s self-control slipping before his very eyes; but the Duc had seen stronger men crumble before. His long affection for the King made him only sympathise. Adalita was his only child—well, it would be tragic even if there were ten other princesses—but this had to be particularly crushing for the royal couple. Their only daughter...

“Duc d’Lorraine.”

Ah, thank God the Queen was there to pull him from his darkening thoughts. She hadn't needed to turn such a charming smile upon him, for he was grateful for the distraction.

“The pleasure would be mine, Your Majesty.” It wasn’t the most original line, but Dimitri-Josèphe was not known for poetry. “Simply name the place, and I shall await you there.”

As Isabella told him where they would meet, the three walked through the Salon doors. In the ornate hallway beyond, between the requisite guards—more stationed than normal, Dimitri noted—stood his oak-skinned aid, speaking and gesturing wildly. A flustered soldier saw them and bowed very, very low.

“My apologies, Your Majesties. We’ve been trying to remove this one, but he doesn’t understand anything!”

“He understands simple French. You are all confusing him,” Dimitri explained. His hand waved the guards aside with enough authority—authority that was surely supplemented by the royal presence behind him—that they allowed his aid to run towards him. The Duc reminded in gentle, childlike French, “Rukov, greet your King and Queen first.”

The stocky man skidded to a stop and initiated an awkward bow. A dark eye glanced shyly up at the Queen, before he babbled in an old, uncommon Russian dialect.

Dimitri translated, “Your Majesty, my trusted aid, Rukov, wishes you to know he thinks you the most beautiful creature he has seen. Unfortunately for him, he will have to deal with his grumpy old, not-so-beautiful lord for the rest of the day. I shall teach him where he may go within the palace, regardless of the messages he has for me.”

Dimitri kissed the Queen’s hand once more, bade farewell to the King, and returned to his suite with Rukov in tow.

______

((Fayre: :lol: Present palace courtiers excluded, of course!

Not approachable, because Dimitri has a lazy old player who needs to sleep now. x_x))

[Mahenveau]

"Have you yet became aquainted with the King or any of the royals for that matter? I do hear they are the most charming and beautiful people you shall ever meet. But then the people of court would say that, if they wanted to keep their heads." Fleur laughed. Amelia chuckled as well. "No, unfortunately I haven't. No one is really allowed to speak to any royals because of rank. Yet I think it would be quite marvelous if I were to meet a royal. I admire their work, as well as there exquisite dress. Most people of such high rank don't have access to such dress, except for our queen. How about you? Have you aquainted a royal? It would be a rather rare opportunity, wouldn't it?" Amelie asked as she gazed at all the lilies.

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: I apologize for the length of this post, but it covers a LOT of ground. Also in my research, the treatment of choice back then for Octavien would be pouring hot oil on his gash. Yeah, uh... I'm not doing that. Please excuse the historical inaccuracy, after all, it isn't the first. :) ))

Isabella had been informing Duc d’Lorraine of exactly where to find the doors of her Salon, as she would like to meet with him there before she gave the proper tour of the palace. As they passed through the doors they were greeted by the sight and sounds of Dimitri’s flustered servant.

Once the guards let him through, he ran up to Duc d’Lorraine. She was surprised to witness Dimitri speak with him in a soft calming tone, much like a father would speak to a young son. As he instructed his servant to greet the King and Queen, Isabella smiled upon him gently. The man’s gaze seemed to slightly linger on her form while he uttered something in a dialect that she did not know.

She looked to Duc d’Lorraine with expectation as he began to explain. “Your Majesty, my trusted aid, Rukov, wishes you to know he thinks you the most beautiful creature he has seen….” Isabella’s gaze returned to Rukov with a friendly smile. Despite his seeming lack of manners and etiquette, he was sweet.

After Dimitri left, Isabella informed Edouard she would be in her suite. She felt as if the events of the day were weighing on her, and she needed some quiet, and time alone. It hadn’t been an entire lie, it just hadn’t been the whole truth. She really did go to her suite, to think in the quiet while her servants tended to her. But she did not intend to stay there. Octavien had said they would talk later, and well, it was later.

When she entered her suite, she was given a message that had come from Baroness Flight’s servant. Her eyes widened of the tale of Mercy getting ran over by a wild coach and wondered who it could have been. She wondered if it were the Duc d’Lorraine, but quickly dismissed it. Certainly a man of his caliber would not have nearly ran over a lady. It must have been one of the other many courtiers coming in this day. After being sure that Mercy was reported to be alright she sent word requesting Mercy’s presence for lunch the next day. With all the commotion going on, she wanted to be sure to keep in regular contact with the most resourceful woman.

With that matter taken care of, Isabella was finally able to sit in front of her vanity, giving herself a lecture in the mirror if it were, while servants tended to her hair. The strong willed woman within her was doing its best to conquer the vulnerable woman she had recently discovered. His words had been short, he was filled with anger. But didn’t he have the right to be? By being in her presence his very position in the kingdom had been challenged, and then today, his life had been threatened. She wondered if he had decided there was simply too much danger involved if they were to have a relationship.

But as all these questions came to her, she just simply couldn’t give up. She had discovered something with him. Something within her that she never knew existed. Isabella was never one to give up easily, to admit defeat without a fight. She wasn’t about to start now. If he chose to not be with her, then that would be a choice she’d have to respect. But he would have to make that choice after she had the opportunity to give her side of the argument. If that opportunity would not present itself, she would create it.

On that note she left her salon, only after Margret had spoken with one of his servants secretly to find the nature of his injury and gathered supplies for Isabella to tend to it. She had, after all, seen after the Princess, she could tend to the Prince as well without causing suspicion among those on the upper floor. She forced her stride to appear leisurely calm, she still was not sure exactly what she was going to say but she had to trust that the words would come to her.

With forced determination she strode towards Octavien’s Suite, readying her mind and will to stay calm and focused. Thankfully when she was but five yards from his door Giles appeared through them. “Giles, I wish to speak with the Prince.” She stated authoritively.

The man seemed a bit surprised to see her. “Your Majesty, he just …” he begun with a bow.

“Giles, while I admire your devotion to your master,” she interrupted firmly, “I shall remind you that I still out rank him.” Giles’ only answer was a nod and the hint of a smile as he opened the doors to Octavien’s suite.

Isabella’s eyes darted about the room briefly in search for Octavien. When she saw him lying in bed, with no shirt due to his injury, with a book in his hands she nearly lost her will. Only two nights ago she had shared his bed, caressed that bare chest, and allowed doubts to penetrate her for the briefest of whiles. She, once again, forced the doubts to flee her mind. She could not allow herself to be weak in this moment. She continued her stride, not ceasing once, for if she did, she thought she may be frozen where she stood.

As he lowered his book he appeared a bit surprised to see her. “Isabella…” his tone of voice only reassured her he had not been expecting her quite yet. It was for the briefest of moments she looked at his azure eyes, a move she soon regretted. She knew then that she could not allow herself to gaze into his eyes while she was here. They had always been able to communicate in the silent language of looks. She feared if she saw anything that disproved of her presence she would not be able to finish the mission she had set before herself. Her eyes instead focused on his right shoulder that was bandaged as she crossed the foot of the bed. That was safe territory.

“I have come to see to your wound.” She stated, determination in her voice as she came close enough to sit on the side of the bed facing him. She knew he would not believe her excuse. Despite all the things that had happened, he was no fool and would see right through her reasons. As she leaned forward to begin taking off the bandages, he began to object. “Isabella, really this is not necessary.” His voice was soft, she wondered if it was pity that he had for her.

“Please, just allow me to say what I’ve come to say.” Her gaze remained on the bandages that had turned shades of dark reddish brown from the blood they had soaked. Without further objections from him, she began to unwrap the wound while she spoke.

“As I’m sure you’ve discerned by now, though I am treated fairly I am not exactly highly esteemed in Edouard’s eyes.” She began. “He tired of me after a year or so when I failed to do my duty as his queen. To give him a son, or any child for that matter.” She continued steadily, “For the most part I have accepted my lot in life. Putting aside my desires to see foreign lands, to taste other kingdoms, fooling myself into believing that I was happy locked up in this place.”

As she came to see the wound that lay beneath the bandages, Isabella felt greater remorse over being the reason he was harmed. The gash was deep and though he appeared to handle the pain well, she was positive it hurt something fierce. It was with a gentle hand that she poured Margret’s remedy on to it.

“I shall hesitantly admit to you that I have in the past welcomed advances from another man, while my own husband was doing god knows what. Marquess Berini, unfortunately was one such man. The idiot has no mind about him at all, and thanks to the effects of brandy he bragged to the Duc of Mollier about his great prize. What he insinuated in my salon last night is partially true. But I did not act to defend him, I acted to protect only myself.”

She tried to ignore the slight wince of pain on Octavien’s face when she blotted the wound dry. She inhaled deeply, both to calm her nerves, forcing a steady hand, but also to find the strength to continue with her words as she began to wrap clean cloth around his wound. “Anyhow, he was a guest at your wedding, and he paid several visits to my suite. I did not welcome his advances which is what upset him initially. Unfortunately he had a couple days to stew in his anger before he barged in on you and I. So you see, it is because of me that you are wounded. Words could not properly describe the shame I shoulder because of that. I would like nothing more than to see the man hang, but if you wish to let him live, I will not question your judgment.”

Isabella was nearly done with her task as she struggled to finish her words. During the course of speaking her voice had gradually changed from one of determination to a much softer tender tone. “I do not know the answer to the question you asked of me last night. Hopefully you will never encounter another man from my past.” Her voice was low now as she struggled to force her breath, her hands done with their work, they rested in her lap, her gaze fixed upon them. “But I assure you if you ever did, not a single one of them have ever seen even a glimpse of the woman that I am when I’m with you.” Isabella inhaled deeply. “She didn’t even exist before you.”

Unable to find anything more to say, and fearing that she had said far more than she ever should have, she gently slid off the bed, lifting herself to her feet. She wished to look at his eyes, to see if her impromptu speech had affected him at all, but she just couldn’t do it. Instead, in the deafening silence that engulfed her, she turned. Forcing herself to take a step towards the direction of the door.

[Fayreview]

((Yup Shenan I knew that hense Mercy's reaction to doctors (I Think wall all owe Pare a big thank you for changing that medical treatment). But if Octavien gets an infection we can apply leeches, lots of leeches!!!!!! *dances* sorry it seems a GCSE in medical history is actually useful now, incidentally a doctor probably wouls be "bleeding" Adalita too, it was used for everything, but I would avoid infection Atropa as we'd have to shave your head as well!!!

Oh and just so you don't think i'm rude that was some Mega writing there :D))

[Haylifer]

((Fayre! Medicine Through Time History GCSE? :P My only damn B! I sulked for about a week after my results because of that hiccup. But yes, I think as Adalita's illness is presently unknown, the best treatment would be holding two pidgeons to the soles of her feet, then having her stand in the moonlight every night for a week, in a bucket of elephant dung with a frog on her head :D I would have made a brilliant Quack. Considering I'm taking a day off college, I'll have a big spiffy RP wrote up. Once I make a start on the prologue to my new story...which is really not happening.))

[Fayreview]

((Hay Yup well I am the proud recipient of an A* in medicine through time and the American west. Fortunately it was my favourite subject so I'm currently helping teach it too :)! And don't feel bad My history teacher said our exam was easier than the year befores, which is the one you took ;) plus I'll bet you got 2 A*s in english :P

Shenan how long till nightfall?))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: I was going for a fairly short post here, but... Me thinks I failed... :( )))


Finally. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Octavien had gotten some rest. Some sound, peaceful sleeping rest. The inner and outer turmoil of the past few days, this one especially, was taking its toll on him, and once the doors closed behind the Royal physician who'd briefly left Adalita's side to tend to her injured (and shaken) husband, Gilles immediately ushered Octavien into bed. Before long, he was sound asleep. Still troubled, but too exhausted for his mind to keep him awake with thoughts and plans of how to best deal with his worries.

A few hours passed, noon came and went, but Gilles let Octavien sleep without bothering him and insisting he eat something for lunch. The boy had alot of resting to catch up on, he could eat later. Even Gilles himself decided to skip lunch, for he too was tired after staying up most of the night. One sleepless night was all it took to make him feel his age. He was twice as old as his young master, and simply didn't have the same stamina. Though he didn't want to leave Octavien's side, and so quietly he moved one of the armchairs to the side of the bed, where he then spent the following couple of hours, in a light enough slumber to awake, should Octavien require him.

Though when Octavien finally awoke, Gilles had been back on his feet for a good while, and was just returning the armchair to its original place when he heard Octavien stir awake. With a slight yawn, the young man sat up, and started heaving himself backwards to lean against the many soft pillows between his back and the headboard of the bed, but winced and let out a groan when the added strain on his shoulder sent a sharp pain shooting through his arm. Being wounded would take some getting used to...
But, while the injured arm slowed him down physically, it did little to slow down his mind. Although still far from being fully rested, within minutes of waking up, he was back to thinking of the best way to sort out the one mess that bothered him the most, simply because it was one he knew he could do something about. Adalita's illness still weighed heavily on his mind, but there really was nothing he could do for her. Gilles and even the royal physician had been sure to point that out to him. So that only left him to deal with the things he could actually do something about. The most important one being his currently very strained relationship with Isabella. Last night, he had left, telling her they would be better off talking at a later time. He had been the one to end whatever discussion they might've had, and leave. It was now up to him to come back, to take the first step towards mending what he feared he had broken.

"Gilles", he said, still sitting in his bed in nothing but his drawers. "Will you please seek out one of the Queen's servants, and have them forward my humble request to see her and to send for me when and if she can spare the time?"

"Certainly, Your Highness", Gilles said with a slight bow, knowing all too well that something wasn't right between the two.

Without wasting any time, he immediately headed towards the doors, leaving Octavien to reach for the book on his bedside table, to pass the time while he waited. He didn't expect that even if she was free from pressing matters and duties - something which he doubted - that she would grant his request any time soon. She was a woman, and a woman of great power at that. She would most likely have him stew in his regret and guilty conscience for a while.

So, imagine his surprise when after no more than half a minute, the doors opened once again, and in she swept, catching him completely off guard. Determination lacing her every step, she purposefully strode towards him, without even a moment of hesitation. But the way her eyes diverted from his when he spoke her name, did not pass him by. She was not as confident as she would like for him to believe.

With a small glass vial and clean bandages in her hands, she rounded the bed to reach his right side and thus his injured shoulder, which she was obviously intent on looking after. Her, the very Queen, whom he doubted had ever been exposed to an open and bloody wound. But, if she was here to see him, whatever excuse she had didn't matter in the slightest. He didn't care, as long as he got the chance to talk to her. He only hoped that she would handle the sight with the same unfazed calm she seemed to handle everything, and not do what most women around court would normally do; faint.

"I have come to see to your wound", she said, and sat down on the side of the bed just inches from him, but still avoiding to look at anything but the blood soiled bandages around his shoulder.

"Isabella", he protested softly as she reached to unfasten them. "Really this is not necessary."

"Please," Isabella interrupted in turn. "Just allow me to say what I’ve come to say."

Seeing no point in arguing about who would go first, Octavien stayed silent, even though he wished she would've let it be him, as perhaps if he did, he'd be able to undo some of the hurt he must've caused her, before she let words that had been spoken by him in anger ruin something that didn't need to be ruined. But, he had cruelly denied her to speak last night. He would not rob her of her right this time. And so he listened quietly as she spoke, telling him about the state of her marriage, the sacrifices she'd had to make as a Queen that was expected to stay by her husband's side, how she'd welcomed other men when the King offered her nothing but solitude and a cold bed, the true nature of Marquess Berini's insinuation, and how that whole catastophy in her Salon last night had come to be. He listened to every word, save for a few when he was forced to bite back another groan from the blinding pain in his arm as she tended to the wound.
When finally she fell silent, having replaced the old bandages with the new, clean ones, he just sat there for a moment, struggling to take it all in and digesting it before he reacted. There were many parts of her story that he didn't like to hear, but that didn't exactly surprise him. He'd realized about the King's negligence of her a long time ago, he'd understood her reasons for seeking the embrace of other men, he'd even gathered that if what Marquess Berini had said about her having someone killed, it would've hardly been for him, but for her.
But while all that made the now so very familiar feeling of anger stir within him, there was one thing she said that quenched every last part of it in an instant; what she said about who she was with him. She admitted that he had made a difference, that he had offered her something no one else ever had. And judging by her strained voice, it was far from easy for her to do that. Which was why Octavien believed every word of it, and why it meant so much to him. The fact that she told him all this, that she admitted to deeds that made her human, and less than perfect, let him know that she did care for him, that she treasured what they'd had just as much as he did. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have come here. If he had been nothing more than the toy he had feared, she would've just thrown him aside and gone about her life as usual.
She hadn't.

Faced with all this, Octavien was so far away in his thoughts that he didn't even register that she may be waiting for him to reply, until the motion of the mattress woke him up to the fact that she had stood, and was preparing to leave.

"Isabella, wait", he then spurted, and reached for her arm.

Not to seize it and keep her there against her will, but to gently touch it, and beckon her to stay and allow him to speak his peace. Thankfully, the act did halt her imminent departure, and he took a deep breath while trying to decide what needed to be said first.

"I... I had no right to judge you. Marquess Berini achieved his goal of upsetting me, and I spoke to soon, I spoke in anger. The question I asked you was out of line, and not at all what I had intended to say. Far be it from me to judge you for having a past, as Lord knows I haven't much suffered the burdens of chastity myself."

He paused for a moment, and sought her gaze, sought for her to finally look at him.

"And...", he added. "I want you to know you are not the reason for my injury. The shame of it is not for you to bear."

With Isabella still standing, his fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist, and he tugged at it gently, to get her to sit back down.

"Please", he softly pleaded.

[Seiza]

“I hope you truly do have a message or three for me,” Dimitri began in the privacy of his suite. “Lest I be made a bald liar at my first meeting with the Queen.”

His aid studied the colour of the floor with immense interest.

“Rukov...” he warned.

“...Oh! The servants told me your room is prepared. That is my message. Sir.”

Rukov beamed so proudly at his brilliant escape, the Duc was more inclined to laugh than lecture him. Still, no matter how much he wanted to see the royals—or a particular royal—there was simply no excuse for barging to the upper floors in that manner. And it was his responsibility to ensure it never happened again.

“Even though you do know better, I shall pardon it this time. But court protocol is strict, and you won’t enter the upper floors again.”

Well, not unless Dimitri needed him to, of course. But Rukov understood that very well.

His writing instruments were already waiting for him; Rukov understood his master indeed. He knew there were many things Dimitri had to sort out, beginning foremost with a letter to home. The suite was beautiful to behold, but felt completely impersonal; when he entered the mahogany walls, it was as going to a foreign bed with a neighbour’s wife. He would send for his belongings immediately.

Second on the list was a brief but polite greeting to the Prince, wishing him a full recovery and a luncheon at the latter’s earliest convenience.

A final letter—although the last written, but the one Dimitri took the greatest care with, for a lady did not deserve anything less—was to Baroness Venn. It was a simple piece, wishing her well and requesting the address of the tailor.

Rukov watched his master write and write and write, and finally deigned to ask, “Are we staying here long, my lord?”

“Damn! Did I forget to tell you?” Dimitri sighed. “Yes, for a while, Rukov. With all that’s been happening... Well, you’d best send word to your family.” He glared at the swarthy yet silent man, who did not object at all. “You’re pleased with this, aren’t you?”

“It looks to be an interesting stay, my lord.”

Dimitri thought of the dear Princess' illness, the botched wedding, the attempted murder, and this business of finding Mollier’s replacement. “Indeed.”

______

((Not approachable, just wanted to plonk something down before my 5-hour bus ride home.

Atropa, that was very short. Really. ... :P

So... Mercy wasn't making a crack joke about those mustard poulstices? :lol: Aww, Shenan, you should've stuck to the oil. Historical accuracy can be very amusing to watch. XD))

[Fayreview]

((No sadly she wasn't it did happen! However one of the historical innaccuracy's is neither Helena nor Margret would be trusted to produce cleansing solutions due to the two X chromosomes, not a dig Shenan I did it too! didn't fancy having Mercy's face Cauterised! Also did you spot how the two most powerful MEN in the court have followed our lead, well excluding that whimpy husband of yours ;)))

Helena caught the eye of the new servant dashing aup the stairs to the royal floor, she followed him, pressuming he was lost and needed to be told where he going, but she saw that in fact he had a message for the prince, she turned to sneak back down the stairs when he heard the man refer to a 'Baroness Venn' What had Baroness Flight been up to now? As the man at the door to the princes room shrugged and shook his head Helena grimaced and dashed after him. "I'm so sorry my man, his French isn't fluent yet he must be confused I shall take care of him." She more or less dragged the man away with her. Once they were downstairs she intercepted the note and insisted he brought anymore messages for Baroness Venn directly to her.

((Hope you don't mind Helena manhandling your manservant Seiza!))

Mercy had returned to her room, to find two notes propped against the cleaned shoe, she smiled when she saw the Queens feminine handwriting addressing the note to "Baroness Flight" and smiled even more broadly when she saw a note to "Baroness Venn." Dimitri, had pressumably given directions to some sevrant. Typical, Helena was no where to be seen, what had Mercy hired that woman for.

((If only she knew huh ;)))

She digested first the Queen's note, writing it with a little more warmth than was strictly polite, but the woman would be greiving at the moment and she wanted to offer some consolidation along with acceptance for a luncheon.

She had great fun composing a mildly obstructive letter to the man who still only called himself Dimitri-Josephe claiming she could not remember the dress makers name and that if he were to collect her from the Queen's salon after luncheon she would have found out by then.

She decided to deliver them herself, tracking down a maid and asking what room had been made up for guests. She smiled as she slipped it under the door.

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Hay!! Where's that post you promised us? ;)
Seiza... Rukov isn't going to be lurking outside Isabella's door is he? lol))

As Isabella stood, she couldn’t believe the words she had allowed to pass through her lips and become spoken. Each and every one of them had been the truth, but it was not like her to be so painfully honest and open. She wasn’t sure where they had come from, but they had been heartfelt, and if it proved to be a mistake, to lay herself on the line, it would be a mistake she would not repeat again.

As she registered his silence and turned to leave she was nearly startled by his sudden “Isabella, wait”, followed by his gentle touch of her arm. She closed her eyes inhaling deeply. Part of her wanted to just leave so she could console herself in private. She expected to hear a host of “Sorry”s that would only lead to her returning to her life alone. Yet at the same time, there was a glimmer of hope that she held. A hope that her words had been enough to make him think twice of their relationship. A relationship that had enjoyed being nothing but light and passionate until the previous night.

Though she did not walk away, she wasn’t quite able to turn back to face him as he began his turn to speak. His voice giving away the fact that perhaps he struggled to find his words as much as she did. “I… I had no right to judge you. Marquess Berini achieved his goal of upsetting me, and I spoke to soon, I spoke in anger.” His words had been the beginning of an apology, still she couldn’t turn, her eyes slowly moved about the room, not really focusing on anything, as it was her ears that were tuned in.

“The question I asked you was out of line, and not at all what I had intended to say. Far be it from me to judge you for having a past, as Lord knows I haven’t much suffered the burdens of chastity myself.” His words were both relieving and painful to hear at the same time. Relieved to know that he no longer held any anger towards her, yet painful as they resurfaced the doubts that had come to her mind two nights prior. As he paused, she finally found the strength to turn and face him. Her eyes landing upon his own only for the briefest of moments before staring at space far above his head.

“And… I want you to know you are not the reason for my injury.” Those words had gathered her attention, shocking her enough to look into his eyes, to see if she could discern what he could possibly mean by such a statement. “The shame is not for you to bear.” He told her, possibly seeing the confusion in her eyes. He reached for her wrist, asking gently if she’d stay and hear him out. As he spoke the short word of “Please” the softness in his voice beckoned her. She simply couldn’t deny him. She had never been able to deny him anything really, why would she start now?

She sat delicately by his side, doing her best to keep her gaze upon him. It was difficult to see such turmoil in the eyes of the man that had come to mean so much to her. She only hoped his words would be easier for her to hear than it appeared it was for him to speak.

((OOC: Guess it's time to lay it on her Atropa.))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Warning, HUGE post ahead.)))


The moments it took Isabella to turn and look at him, and then for her to decide to comply with his plea, felt like an eternity to Octavien. At first it had seemed she didn't want to stay at all, and he felt his fingers twitch, prepared to clasp her arm more tightly and really do force her to stay.
But finally, and much to his apparent relief, she sat down next to him again, confusion in her eyes at his latest statement.

Another few moments passed, while he tried to organize his thoughts. There was so much he needed to say, but he really wasn't sure where to start. Perhaps it was best to just come out and say it, to start at the beginning.
And so, after another deep breath, he started telling her his confession...




- - - - - - - - Flashback - - - - - - - -

As it had turned out, Octavien had been right in thinking that the night ahead of him would not offer much rest. Though he couldn't have been more wrong about the reason why. Never could he have imagined that where before he had envisioned hours spent with the feminine curves of Isabella's warm body in his arms, he was now left with nothing but searing anger, and hatred. And perhaps the most dangerous of all; a bruised male ego. Octavien was young and hot-tempered, and the only reason why Marquess Berini had been able to leave Isabella's salon in once piece, was because the young Prince also had an iron will. Had he been even one ounce less in control of himself, there would've been a terrible brawl, and blood would've been shed.

Having left the salon, and Isabella, and entered his own suite, Octavien was still thirsty for blood. He wanted nothing more than to storm down to Berini's suite and challenge him to a secret duel; a duel that would give Octavien the chance to draw Berini's blood, a chance to bestow a cut for every single, offensive word that had come out of the man's wretched mouth. But, considering Berini's display in the Salon, secrecy hardly seemed to be a virtue of his, at the moment. Octavien would have to find another way to rid himself of his overpowering anger. One that didn't include provoking the Marquess any further, and risk sending him straight to the King to open that big mouth of his.

This time, the harpsichord wouldn't do. There were no notes in that instrument, in any instrument, dark enough to portray what was raging within Octavien, to channel the way his blood was boiling, and his gut churning with fury. He had to find another outlet, and there was only one that came to mind; fencing. An almost-duel with Gilles, to replace the real one he couldn't have with the Marquess. Little did he care that it was far too late, by proper standards, for any such exercises.

"Gilles!" he called, his firm voice demanding the return of his trusted servant, who had seen his masters temper when he came through the doors, and thus made himself scarce to leave Octavien to calm down in peace.

"Yes, Your Highness?" he said as he re-appeared in the doorway to one of the adjoining rooms.

Instead of recieving an answer on what Octavien expected him to do, he was thrown one of the two swords they used for fencing practice. A silent response, but one that spoke volumes.
Somewhat taken aback, Gilles stared at his young master. This did not bode well...

"B-but, Your Highness...", he stammered, unsure of how wise (or rather, unwise) it would be for him to point out Octavien's currently quite... murderous... expression.

And not only that, it was also very late, and the slammer of swords echoing throughout the Palace might disturb some of the other courtiers, even though it was perhaps unlikely that the sharp but delicate noise would penetrate the walls and doors. For Gilles did realize that despite Octavien's disregard of the late hour, he did not disregard the cold darkness outside in a similar manner.
But before he even had the chance to finish his meek objection, Octavien shot him a glare.

"What?" he snapped.

His tone immediately silenced the older man, and without another word from either of the two, they left the suite and headed down the grand staircase, towards the Great Hall.

Gilles soon realized that Octavien was in a far more foul mood than he had first thought. Usually, when angry, Octavien would unload his troubles on Gilles, who had helped solve a fair share of the young man's various problems over the years - small ones as well as more serious ones - but this time, Octavien didn't say a word that was not meant in reference to the fencing, and hardly even that. His attacks were intense and relentless to the point that Gilles actually started fearing that he would not make it out the Great Hall unharmed, or even alive. Octavien seemed almost blinded by his anger, and each attack seemed an attempt to rid the world of the source of his raging state. At first there appeared to be a tiny shred of self control that kept him from harming his opponent, but the more engulfed he became with the battle, the more that shred seemed to fade away, and he started seeming downright intent on drawing blood.
And it was during one such episode of one aggressive attack after another, that Gilles felt Octavien was on the verge of getting all too carried away. The young man was driving him him further and further back, so fast that finally Gilles foot slipped and he tumbled backwards onto the floor.

"Your Highness!" he croaked, when he saw that the sword was still coming after him.

Octavien didn't seem to even hear him, and tip of his rapier cut a swishing, narrow eight in the air as he moved in for the final strike, that would place the sharp edge against Gilles' throat, and perhaps, as Gilles feared, pierce right through it.

"Your Highness!!", he desperately cried again, louder this time, his voice echoing in the large hall, but still it did no good. "OCTAVIEN!!!"

Finally his voice broke through to Octavien's senses, and the young Prince instantly froze. He stared at Gilles for a few moments of dead silence, and then slowly the wild expression in his eyes started fading, giving way not to what one would've expected to see - regret and horror over what had almost happened - but to the faintest of smiles. Or rather, the faintest of smirks. It seemed almost evil, the way it tugged at the corner of his mouth, and the tinge of pure malice that glowed deep embedded in his eyes. Neither settled very well with Gilles.
But a moment later, it had vanished, and instead there was an apologetic smile on the Princes lips as he offered his hand to help the man up. A spoken apology, however, remained only something Gilles could wish for.

"Come", Octavien said and handed his sword over to Gilles before heading back towards the staircase.

His voice now carried the same determination Gilles had heard earlier that day, just before they had started searching for the hidden passage that would force Adalita and Duc Peitou-Charentes to submit to Octavien's wishes. Whatever it was that was troubling Octavien's young clever mind right now, he had thought of a plan of how to solve it.

A plan, as it turned out, that would cause yet another in the endless string of nights that offered him little to no sleep. The majority of the dark hours saw the two sitting in the comfortable armchairs in the middle of the room - the very same chairs where hours later Octavien would greet Marquess Berini to 'sort out their differences' - talking, planning, and going over the plan several times, making sure that all angles were covered. Nothing could be left to chance.
When dawn finally banished the night, neither of them had gotten any sleep. And as if that, along with knowing at least part of what the day would bring, hadn't put enough pressure on Octavien, he was brought the news that Adalita had taken ill during the night, and now looked as though Death was a closer companion to her than Life. Octavien had wanted to see her. She was his wife, after all, and he did care about her, even though she had managed to anger and antagonize him quite a few times since their wedding. She was just a young, foolish girl, blinded and lead astray by a man in whom she saw something that Octavien failed miserably to recognize. At least that was what Octavien hoped. He had thought some bad things about her in the past couple of days, but they had all been born out of anger and humiliation, of disappointment that she did not honor her word. Never had he wished her any harm, and if she was indeed on her deathbed, like the rumours would have it, Octavien wanted them to make peace before it was too late.
But, Gilles had objected, and refused to let him go to her suite. He wouldn't allow his master anywhere near the ill Princess, in fear that whatever it was that ailed her, it would befall the young Prince as well. And, even though the words coming from the older mans lips may sound cold and cruel, Octavien couldn't deny that he had a point.
However, he still requested that he'd be brought regular updates on her condition. Any change, no matter how small, was to be reported. If not to him personally, then to one of his servants.

Then came the morning annoucement, which added yet more pressure on Octavien, as now he had to face Isabella. In a way. It seemed they both did their best to pretend the other person wasn't there. In Octavien's case, it was because he couldn't bring himseld to look at her, knowing he had most likely hurt her last night, and even though he wanted to explain and apologize, this was hardly the right time. And in her case... He could only guess. She had reason to be angry with him, so if that was why she ignored him, he couldn't blame her.
But hopefully, everything would go according to plan, and one day she would know just what he was prepared to do for her, and for them.

Once the morning announcement was over, and Octavien was back in his suite, it was time.
The message had been sent, and the Marquess had arrived.
Octavien greeted him with the faint smile of someone who knew they were in an inferior position - as far as business went - and kept his demeanor calm and demure the whole time, inviting the Marquess to sit, and even offering him a glass of brandy. One Federico didn't fail to accept with a smug smirk glued to his lips. He was so busy gloating, taking delight in what he thought was Octavien's uneasiness, that he never saw it coming. He never sensed Gilles sneaking up behind him, and it was doubtful he even felt the swift blow delivered to the back of his head.
Unconscious his body slumped in the seat, and Octavien shot up from his seat. Not knowing how long the Marquess was going to be out of it, they couldn't afford to waste a single moment. Together they pulled him out of the chair and onto the floor, and placed a thick book a few feet away; a simple precauting, just in case when he woke up, he would claim he had been hit in the head, or in case someone would make it into the room before he had managed to get back up on his feet. If that happened, the book on the floor would support Octavien's claim that after being attacked, he had managed to hit the Marquess over the head with the book to knock him out, in self-defense.
While Gilles retrieved a decorative dagger from a nearby sidetable, Octavien re-arranged his clothing a little bit to make it look as though he had been attacked, and even freed a few strands of hair from the ribbon that held it all back, for the very same reason. After that, the only things that remained were ones that had to happen in quick succession, and so all they could do was to wait for the trigger; the Marquess awakening. A couple of minutes of total silence dragged by, and they had just started considering using the small bottle of smelling salt in Octavien's bedside table, when a soft groan from the dark-haired man on the floor made them both jump. He was coming to!

"Quickly!" Octavien whispered.

Gilles eyes darted from Marquess Berini, to Octavien's face, to the dagger in his own hands, and then back to Octavien again. Taking a deep breath, he put his free hand on Octavien's right shoulder, and raised the hand holding the dagger. He saw Octavien tense up in anticipation of the impending pain, and it was as though the look on the young man's face made him realize what he was just about to do. He was just about to draw blood, and lots of it, from the boy whom he had always thought of as the son he'd never had.
He couldn't...

"What are you waiting for?!"

A sharp hiss from his young master pierced right through his hesitant thoughts, and he blinked, as though he too had just awakened.

"Go on!" Octavien urged him on. "He's waking up!"

Quickly Gilles glanced over his shoulder, to see Marquess Berini stirring slightly on the floor, and he realized that if their plan was to succeed, he'd have to set his reluctance to hurt Octavien aside, all for he greater good. Firming his grasp of the dagger, he turned back to Octavien, and after another deep breath, he put the blade against his shoulder. And pulled.
Despite his clenched teeth, Octavien couldn't bite back a faint groan as the blade cut into his flesh and opened up a deep gash. But it didn't stop him from carrying on with the plan. As Gilles bent down to place the dagger in Federico's hand, Octavien leaned against the small table. There he waited for a moment, looking around to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything, and for Gilles to stand. Then...

"Have you gone mad?!" he called out, to no one in particular, and gave the table a good shove to knock it over, along with one of the chairs.

That was Gilles' cue. With the skill of the best among actors, he flung the doors open, crying for help, and the metaphorical curtains parted for the show to commence.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


With the final words of his deed having spilled forth from his lips, Octavien fell silent, his gaze shifting slightly between her face and whatever items were next to her, or behind her, as though he wasn't quite sure what reaction to expect of her. He could only hope that she would understand that what he had done, he had done for them, for her. She, and what had started blossoming the two of them, had come to mean a great deal to him, and he was the kind of man that would not stand by and let it be taken away, least of all by some ill-mannered brute with a loose tongue. He would protect what he held dear, and any enemy would soon learn that in his case, his bark was for more pleasant than his bite.

[Seiza]

((Ooooh... Dun dun DUNNN, indeed! Octavien's getting fierce...

Shenan: I can neither prove nor disprove your suggestion. ;)

Fayre: Oh, manhandle away! That's what manservants are for! *ba-DUMP!*))
______

When it seemed he had done everything that could be done, the afternoon sun was already waving farewell. Tonight would hold the special significance of being the first of many nights sleeping in another bed, far away from his own forests and household and lands.

But he was thinking too far ahead—the sun had not completely entered the evening descent—and Dimitri stayed his thoughts, for he wished today wouldn't proceed too quickly.

Leaving Rukov with few orders, he gathered his thick coats and set out.

If anyone else decided to walk outside, in the late-late-afternoon, in winter, right after an exhausting journey across the country; he would have called them mad. Indeed, perhaps he simply was so. But he didn’t know if the King planned to announce his identity tomorrow morning. Logically, it would make sense to keep himself unknown, so as to gain the unguarded trust and unmasked face of the nobles. But the King was Edouard, and despite all his affection for him, Dimitri had no illusions of his craftiness.

If he was displayed before the court tomorrow, this might be his last walk taken without constantly guarding himself, and without others constantly guarding against him.

He decided a visit to the Palace Gardens was in order. People so rarely ventured outside in this season; hiding in their furs, shielding behind a fire, they assumed all natural beauty worth enjoying had been killed. The Duc thought there was something worth admiring about a force so powerful that it rendered time itself immobile. Stepping on a frosty path, he was surrounded by bare branches and dark trunks frozen in time by the forceful hand of winter, and he was awed.

If he remembered the palace correctly—for Edouard did not seem the type to drastically change a working layout—there would be benches dotting the paths within the gardens. Briefly, he wondered if there were those as mad as him, taking a stroll in the cold weather. Did couples still court as in his time, in the public daytime of spring; or were there those who giggled and flirted in the secluded darkness of the winter night?

Sticking his gloved hands into his pockets, Dimitri simply walked, and if he would find out, he would find out.

______

((Very, very approachable. I think there are at least two people still in the Gardens, aye?))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Another big sappy post. What can I say?))

Isabella sat quietly on the edge of the bed, watching Octavien’s face as he recalled last night and the anger he had felt. She gained a new respect for Giles, and thought she’d have to thank him later for his discernment and loyalty. It was something she had previously only done for Margret, but he seemed most deserving of it.

Then when Octavien began to recall the events of his morning, Isabella’s eyes switched from showing curiosity to radiating shock and disbelief. As he detailed how he had framed Federico, she was overcome by all sorts of emotions. She just listened in shock, unable to object or to stop him. It was as if the whole scene was being played out for her on a stage before her very eyes, a scene that seemed too contorted to be real.

When he finished his recollection, Isabella’s eyes were wide, and her mouth slightly agape. She struggled to get a firm grip on what she was feeling. “You…” her voice trailed, unable to gather a coherent sentence. “You…” her voice rose slightly as her feeling of frustration and perhaps anger began to dominate over the rest. “You…” that time the word had ended with her lips firmly pursed together, her right hand raising and firmly landing upon his left cheek sending his head sideways. She had slapped him. Hard. And though Octavien’s face radiated with displeasure and perhaps betrayal at her actions, Isabella did not see any of it. The momentum of her hand continued through her body as she stood and walked towards the foot of the bed.

As her body twirled in the opposite direction her words quickly flooded out, bombarding Octavien relentlessly. “All day long I’ve been worried sick about you! To the point I nearly made a fool of myself in front of Felix. I’ve sat with Edouard and Duc d’Lorraine, struggling to keep my focus on their matters of importance, all the while thinking I should have allowed the slimy Marquess to have his way with me! To save you the pain of an injury and the humiliation of an attempt on your life! I thought it better to force myself into what I used to be.” During her rant she had crossed the foot of the bed only to walk around to the other side.

Her words stopped their rampage as she now stood staring at him. Her anger had gotten the better of her, wining out above the other emotions. Now that she had given it words, the emotion started to fade, allowing her to digest the other aspect of his tale. While she had thought it better to force herself to be with a creep like Berini to save his pain, he had thought his pain was worth saving her from a creep like Berini. It was so ironic and beautiful at the same time.

She sat down on the bed, now on his left side, his eyes looked at her wildly as if he wasn’t sure he trusted her. “I’m sorry,” she began. She wished to say her anger had gotten the better of her just as his did him the night before. She wished to tell him that while she didn’t agree with his tactics in dealing with Federico, she understood and appreciated what he had done for her. For them.

But there was one thing she wished for above all of that. She pulled her body up onto his bed, closer to him, despite her large dress. This was a time where her actions would have to speak louder than words. She leaned in to him closer, once again her gaze wouldn’t break from his eyes. As her lips were but a mere inches from her own, she held her ground, her eyes darting between his lips and his azure gaze. Neither of them spoke, perhaps this moment was one to be lingered upon. Their relationship prior had been one filled with flirtation. And though neither of them stated it, she felt as if they both expected it to be like their previous relations. Thrilling while it lasted, yet doomed to come to an end.

Now Isabella was positive she saw things clearly. Federico’s ultimate goal had been to drive them apart. And though he had succeeded for a short time, his antics had actually had the opposite effect of his desires. His ranting had actually pushed them closer together, each of them realizing they had something they longed to defend. A relationship that was far more serious than anything Isabella had ever dreamed imaginable. Judging by the look in his eye, she felt Octavien thinking along the same lines.

Isabella held her ground, just inches away from his lips, her eyes once again conveying that she was all his, all he had to do was claim her. As she began to breathe a soft hardly audible “Thank you.” She found herself interrupted as Octavien had taken her offer. Claiming her with his fierce passionate kiss that all at once told her she was welcome, that he was sorry, and that he had no intentions of letting her go. It was a kiss that spoke volumes.

((OOC: Oh my. lol))

[RubyAmbition]

Annelise looked around her, she'd left Silvius a ways back...not really because she had to, but because she felt she should. He could certainly come find her if he felt like it. Her gaze fell upon another man, and she smiled. It was like meeting someone new, or simply someone she didn't really know to begin with, all over again. Even though this guy seemed like a newbie 'round these parts, anyway.

"Excuse me, sir, but I feel as if we've never met." She smiled at him, her eyes shining in the cool air. "I'll allow myself to introduce myself. I'm Duchesse De L'orrin. And, whomever you are, pleased to meet you." Annelise didn't exactly wait before gazing off briefly at the horizon, awaiting a reply of his. Maybe he'd be just as nice as everyone else. Hopefully he was.

Or he wasn't. And she was simply fooled by his kind appearence. Then again, life was all about choices...and she realized she must've been drifting off when she shook her black tresses out of her eyes and smiled brightly at the man before her.

{{Well...she's talking to Dimitri...:) Gave me a reason to posts..}}

[Fayreview]

((WOW!!! Keep up the good work Shenan and Atropa. You brilliant schemers.))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Seiza - *s* He is, when provoked. Two men at the court have learned that in... what's it been... three days snice the wedding? *LOL* He sure doesn't waste any time.

Fayreview - Thanks! He he.)))


The further into his story Octavien had gotten, the more Isabella's eyes had widened. That very observation was part of the reason why he found himself struggling to keep his gaze locked with her, once he finished. He knew that what he had done was hardly fair or noble, but what he had felt in Isabella's Salon the previous night, when Marquess Berini had showered them with foul words and insinuations, had not been something fleeting, a feeling soon to be forgotten. The thought that had entered his mind, that he would shed every single layer of nobility he had before the Marquess got to Isabella, had not been a simple boyish notion of wanting to be a hero. It had been cold, hard fact.
And he had proven it. So much so, that he couldn't help but feel a small pinprick of pride. He had shown not only himself, but her as well, that she wasn't the only one that could form things and situations to suit her liking. He was more than capable himself.

Isabella, however, wasn't equally impressed by his wiliness, his splendid chicanery. He realized that the moment a hard slap burned across his cheek, and sent his head turning slightly away from her. A slap that earned her a far from amused glare.
In a way, he had expected it. If nothing else, then her voice as she tried to speak, to utter the words that kept escaping her tongue, had tipped him off. It was simply human to resort to actions when words could not be found, so a slap was a highly plausible reaction. But that didn't make him appreciate it any better. Isabella was an intelligent woman, for God's sakes. One would think she'd recognize the cause for his efforts!
But no. Not only did she slap him, she also stood from the bed, and then didn't waste any time commencing the usual performance of storming out of the room that women were so inclined to give. (The fact that he himself had done something quite similar last night conveniently slipped his mind. And besides, when he did it, it had been different.)

"All day long I've been worried sick about you!" she stated accusingly as she rounded the bed. "To the point I nearly made a fool of myself in front of Felix. I've sat with Edouard and Duc d’Lorraine, struggling to keep my focus on their matters of importance, all the while thinking I should have allowed the slimy Marquess to have his way with me! To save you the pain of an injury and the humiliation of an attempt on your life! I thought it better to force myself into what I used to be."

Dramatic exit forgotten, the end of her tirade saw her halting at the other side of the bed, staring at Octavien, who at this point deemed it most wise to stay silent. But he was watching her face closely, in an attempt to try and figure out what he should expect to happen next. It now seemed the anger was slowly seeping out of her, but as he wasn't sure, he warily withdrew a few inches when she sat back down on the bed, this time on the other side. He wasn't in the mood for another slap. He'd had quite enough of them already, thank you very much!
Though a slap was not what she had in mind this time, apparently.

"I'm sorry", she started instead, her voice now softer, calmer.

Then she hesitated for a moment, before doing what this time he saw coming; drawing closer to him, as though she was seeking his embrace, only stopping once there was but an inch or two seperating their lips. The look in her eyes as their gazes locked seconds earlier had been more than enough to dispel any vigilance he'd been feeling, and he now saw the invitation that he had seen so many times before, dancing in her eyes. And at the same time, it was different. Where before there had been mischief and mirth, there was now only honesty. An unveiled desire for him to claim her, with the same force and fire as he used to when she was successfully enticing him, beckoning him to pursue her.
And like always, how could he do anything but comply?

Just as a soft "Thank you" eased it's way past her lips, he seized them firmly with his own, and his good arm slid around her waist to pull her even closer, to feel the intense, electrifying tension that had built in him since their anything but sweet parting the night before. Only once he was satisfied, having had his kisses convey everything that had been left unsaid, did he pull back slightly to look at her.
Something had just occured to him.

"Duc d’Lorraine?", he questioned, recalling the names she had mentioned, the names of people he hadn't even heard of before. "Felix?"

He couldn't help it. Her use of this Felix person's first name made him wary. Needless to say, while it just had brought them closer to one another, last night's incident was still fresh in his memory, and her showing signs of being on first name basis with another man didn't sit quite well with him. He doubted it would, for a very long time, even if it would turn out to be perfectly innocent.

[Shenanigans_SC]

It's now a cold, dark winter's night for our courtiers!

[Seiza]

((Yay, Ruby! Oh, I just noticed the similar 'de L'orrin' and 'd'Lorraine' of our titles. Am tempted to put together some kind of plot just because. :P))
______

Evening was rapidly descending into night when Dimitri finished skimming the periphery of the Garden. He was not tired, but he would return to the Palace either way. His narrow path converged with another, and amid the sleeping roses and bushes, he met a black-haired, ruby-lipped woman.

"Excuse me, sir, but I feel as if we've never met." Her eyes were smiling in that unguarded manner he expected, and she approached him first. "I'll allow myself to introduce myself. I'm Duchesse De L'orrin. And, whomever you are, pleased to meet you."

“Now, that’s a dangerous thing to say, Duchesse,” Dimitri began gravely. “I could be the murderer’s accomplice; the one who got away—and surely you would not be pleased to meet me then.”

His mind pulled out a cabinet of dusty name scrolls, barely consulted in his decade-long absence from court. It sorted through them meticulously, looking for any knowledge he may have of the Duc de L’orrin, for indeed there must have been one. Another half of his mind wondered if he should repay her greeting with his own title; for many reasons he should not, but for honour and civility, he should.

The Duchesse seemed equally caught in her own thoughts—perhaps his joke had been too macabre for a woman—but Dimitri was ready when she returned to him. He smiled kindly and kissed her hand. “Fortunately, I am but Duc Dimitri-Josèphe. There is nothing to fear from a man like me, who merely appreciates rose bushes in winter. Do you walk alone tonight, or have you a companion I should greet as well?”

He decided he would not withhold his title from this one, because the network of knowledge between the country’s ducs and duchesses were too vast and intricate to risk lying to. But if she recognised him from Lorraine, then it would be to her credit.

[RubyAmbition]

“Now, that’s a dangerous thing to say, Duchesse,” “I could be the murderer’s accomplice; the one who got away—and surely you would not be pleased to meet me then.”

Annelise briefly caught on to his first statement, and kind of half smiled. It wasn't exactly her type of a joke, but at least he tried to make her laugh, anyway. Her humor, she guessed, didn't like jokes about murder, and perhaps it could've been better, had she liked murder jokes to begin with. Or grave jokes, or the fact that she was beyond friendly to strangers.


“Fortunately, I am but Duc Dimitri-Josèphe. There is nothing to fear from a man like me, who merely appreciates rose bushes in winter. Do you walk alone tonight, or have you a companion I should greet as well?”


She smiled at him, almost remembering his name. She thought she'd met one of his sisters a few years back, mentioning his name casually. She had mentioned he was very nice, it wasn't like he really was a murderer's
accomplise anyway.


"Ah, you do have a sister or so, right? I believe we meet up some time ago." She smiled brightly, eyes sparkling lightly as she did in the cool night air. "I had a companion, but, alas, I left him on his own for a while, so now, I walk alone. But is that even accurate, because I have now run into you?"


Annelise looked at him, trying very hard to remember exactly where she remembered him from. He was someone she, at the very least, thought she should remember. But she didn't. She remembered his sister, and her few mentions of a Duc for a brother hadn't exactly been varied in the few conversations they'd had.

[Seiza]

“I had a companion, but, alas, I left him on his own for a while, so now, I walk alone. But is that even accurate, because I have now run into you?”

“Not accurate at all, if you will allow me to accompany you back to the palace.” Dimitri offered his arm, not wanting a lady to walk in the growing darkness alone. The Duchesse took it with that bright smile of hers.

She did not seem to recognise his name, but the Duc’s own interest in her was already piqued. The name “de L’orrin” finally struck some part of his memory: he knew the family to be rich, though not as powerful as some. It was not a particularly unique trait, yet considering the number of bankrupted Ducs he knew, it was still quite something. But more importantly, he remembered his sister delightfully prattling about her “new friend the Duchesse,” and he was curious if there was a connection.

“I do indeed have a sister, Duchesse: three, in fact.” They turned a corner, and the pale moon highlighted his grey eyes and white scars. “You must have met my youngest, the current Comtess Anastasie d’Lorraine, who shares my eyes but not my lack of artistic skill. Her passion is for the opera and ballet, like our dear mother.”

Dimitri could feel her studying him, and he intended to jog her memory as much as he could. For no reason other than to confirm if this was the young lady who had befriended his—painfully shy—Ana.

“Perhaps that is where you met her? At an opera house, or a ballet recital?”

[RubyAmbition]

“I do indeed have a sister, Duchesse: three, in fact.”You have met my youngest, the current Comtess Anastasie d’Lorraine, who shares my eyes but not my lack of artistic skill. Her passion is for the opera and ballet, like our dear mother.”
“Perhaps that is where you met her? At an opera house, or a ballet recital?”

Annelise nodded, pushing her hair behind her shoulders with her free arm. She gave him the look over in the, briefly recognizing the eyes. Those lovely grey eyes sparked her knowledge of her friend. She smiled, eyes dancing about with her excitement.

"Oh, Ana! I remember, she mentioned you! Dear lord, I don't believe we ever met, just that she wanted me to met her 'lovely older brother.'" She smiled, suddenly the idea of an opera making her memory increase of this Ana. "Ah, we seat in the same box once at the opera. She was enthralled, simply for no reason, that there was a Duchesse near her sitting next to her, talking! What a marvelous girl! I was delighted with her attitude, and we met up a few more times after that before my presence was requested here!"

She giggled quietly, the words his sister had used to desribe him were out of this world. He had always been nice, is one word she remembered. She guessed that was possible.

"May I ask a question about your marital status? As the lovely Comtesse Ana never mentioned a Duchesse d'Lorraine."

[Shenanigans_SC]

Once again, Isabella found herself in Octavien’s grasp, and pleased to be there. The forcefulness of his kiss was testament to the fact that he was not intimidated by her status and title. It was something that she had desired all along unknowingly. Though his kiss was powerful, there was also a gentleness to it that spoke of his protection of her. Perhaps it was all more expressive because of the tension that had built between them since the night before, maybe it was a signal of their relationship moving to a new level. Whatever caused it, Isabella now felt as if they weren’t simply lovers behind closed doors. She now saw him as a partner. One who was entirely capable of holding his own in matters.

With his arm still on her waist they finally managed to convey their feelings, and Octavien released her from his grasp. “Duc d’Lorraine?” he questioned her. “Felix?” Isabella smiled at the tone of voice he had used when asking who Felix was. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think there was a tinge of suspicion in it.

She bit her lower lip, trying to decide if she should give him a straight forward honest answer, or toy with him a little. “Oh yes, my beloved Comte d’Cognac.” She said playfully, not even trying to hide the smile on her lips. Octavien’s face however warned her she should explain herself. Raising her right hand again, she placed it softly on his cheek this time, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “Relax, I have never even thought of sleeping with the man.” Her arm dropped as she looked away and added, “Though, I do suspect the thought has crossed his wishful little mind on more than one occasion.”

She returned her gaze to Octavien’s face to see his reaction. With a serious tone that was void of any harshness she continued. “Comte d’Cognac, Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes.” Seeing Octavien’s brow raise, she answered what she was certain was his question. “Yes, Silvius’ brother, younger. Though they have a few things in common, primarily their love of bedding women, Comte Charentes is not delusional about the fact. Though on the surface he seems a bit odd, deep down there’s a respectable man, even if he’d never admit to it. He at least, unlike his brother, respects my title and appreciates my power.”

She looked towards Octavien, trying to decide if she should withhold what she was going to say next. When her gaze was distracted by his bandages, she was reminded that he was not a man that needed protecting. Her voice lowered a bit as she continued. “The Comte has been in my service for some time. It was he that took care of the Duc of Mollier for me.”

She watched Octavien’s face, hoping to decipher what he was thinking and feeling. Remembering what she had said during her mindless rant, she continued. “He was relaying some news to me about Adalita’s condition when Giles came into the hall. Not thinking correctly I rushed out of my Salon, my desire to see you took over my senses.” She swallowed after having admitted she had not kept a level head. “Anyhow, he kept me back, with reasons of protecting me from a murderer. Honestly he protected me from possible humiliation as I saw Edouard exit his salon just as I returned to mine.”

Her gaze roamed the features of his face. Giving him time to think about all the things she had just told him. She would allow him to come to terms fully with that, before continuing on to explain who the Duc d'Lorraine was.

[Seiza]

“...She was enthralled, simply for no reason, that there was a Duchesse near her sitting next to her, talking! What a marvelous girl! I was delighted with her attitude, and we met up a few more times after that before my presence was requested here!”

Dimitri listened carefully. Why would the King make such a request? Her family was nothing so powerful that... Could this young lady be contending for the position of Advisor? She was young in Dimitri’s eyes; too young for the title of Duchesse or Advisor. Yet he knew banishments had been made already. And she still remained here...

“’For no reason’?” His words, though far removed from his thoughts, flowed effortlessly. “My sister is passionate about the arts, but not so much for conversation with strangers. That my lady Duchesse even got a full sentence from her makes you quite extraordinary already.”

She giggled quietly. He wondered if she believed him. He spoke honestly. Extracting conversation from his Ana paralleled extracting a bad tooth with flaming tongs. But based on her next question, perhaps the Duchesse simply thought he was being coy: “May I ask a question about your marital status? As the lovely Comtesse Ana never mentioned a Duchesse d'Lorraine.”

“Certainly you may, as long as I may return the favour.” His expression was light, yet there hovered an expectation that she would honour her end of the bargain. “There is a Duchesse d'Lorraine: my cousin. Nevertheless, all that is quite irrelevant to the Comtesse Anastasie, who only acknowledges our mother as the true Duchesse. As she has long passed away, perhaps that is why my sister failed to mention anyone at all.

“What of you, my lady? I’ll admit, to my disgrace, that I do not recall your husband or what he does. Could it be there is no one at all?”

He spoke in jest, of course. Surely someone of her age could only be a Duchesse if she married into it.

[RubyAmbition]

“What of you, my lady? I’ll admit, to my disgrace, that I do not recall your husband or what he does. Could it be there is no one at all?”

Annelise blushed, flattered.

"Oh, I believe I am quite the opposite. I am quite the single lady. It's quite the predicament, I suppose. My mother expected me married before I was twenty-four. And yet, here I am, unbethrothed and twenty-four." She swallowed her own thoughts quickly, leaving her speechless. Her thoughts implied other things, but she kept silent, and smiled.

"So, your cousin is the Duchesse, eh?" Annelise changed the subject, just to keep herself out of the conversation. She didn't feel that she had to be talked about at all, really, maybe she could just avoid the topic of herself entirely and without problems. Though, in all reality, she probably would fail trying. That was so like her.

[Shenanigans_SC]

This is just a friendly warning that dawn will be called in about 24 hours.

[Seiza]

And yet, here I am, unbethrothed and twenty-four."

The rest of the Duchesse's words seemed to skid to a stop, if not jump down a ravine entirely. She smiled once again (Dimitri formed the curious impression that her smile served less as an invitation than a barrier for her to hide behind), and a silence descended over them as they walked.

The Duc tilted his head at her, in a sign of curiosity, but left it to her discretion to continue. An unmarried woman at twenty-four always had a story to tell; but he would not press her if she did not.

"So, your cousin is the Duchesse, eh?"

And indeed she didn't.

Dimitri followed accordingly. "Yes, a pleasant woman of a most agreeable nature. She had two children of her own. She spent such a time running after them, it's trained her to be a very good overseer of my estate while I am here."

He spoke of her with the same affection he used for Ana, yet it was more restrained. He did not know if the Duchesse knew of his relationship with his cousin-- the last whispers of it seemed to die when he left the court. Whatever the case, it did not seem either of them would be able to prod the other, for they had left the Palace Gardens by this time and crossed the Courtyard.

"Perhaps I may introduce her to you one day," he kissed the Duchesse's hand. The moon was high in the sky, illuminating the palace and people parting ways in white-gold.

______

((Thought I'd help wrap it up for us, Ruby, since dawn is coming soon. :) Feel free to add on a final post if you like!))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Terribly sorry for the delay. Life got in the way. And no, I did not rhyme intentionally. :D And sorry again for the length. I seem to be incapable of writing fairly short posts! )))

Much to Octavien's dismay, he found that Isabella had indeed picked up on his slightly accusatory tone of voice when questioning who this Felix was. He had tried his best to keep his suspicion under wraps, tried to keep it from shining through in his voice. The last thing either of them needed right now was for his newly awakened jealousy - the one that had been partly to blame for his rash words to her the night before - to stir once again, and block their way back to one another.
But obviously, he had failed. And it seemed to amuse the young Queen, judging by the smile that now formed on her lips; something that really didn't help, for even though it was a sign of having no reason to feel guilty, and that she had not taken offense by his tone, it made him feel slightly ill at ease. As though he was going out on a limb by showing that he was growing quite attached to her, in a way that accepted no rivals.

"Oh yes," she started, after biting her lip in a moments of hesitation. "My beloved Comte d’Cognac."

Her tone was playful, and the smile on her lips seemed to still be widening, but they did little to calm him. He was on edge, and not in the mood for jokes, or being toyed with. Isabella seemed to realize it, as no doubt the expression on his face, and more so the one in his eyes, made it quite clear. With a soothing touch, she put her hand gently against his cheek - the one that she had slapped, and that was still slightly flushed - and caressed it with her thumb, as a way of telling him that he had nothing to worry about, that there was no need for his guarded tone.

"Relax," she said. "I have never even thought of sleeping with the man. Though, I do suspect the thought has crossed his wishful little mind on more than one occasion."

Another slight frown appeared on Octavien's young features. While he could understand and even relate to why the man, or any man for that matter, would harbour such desires, understanding it didn't make him like it any better. And matters were hardly made better as she moved on to explain that this Felix was related to Silvius, that they were brothers, even. The prospect of having a man with morals and brains possibly similar to Silvius' running around, didn't much appeal to him.
Though judging by what Isabella had to say about him, it did seem he would be the lesser of two evils.

"Though on the surface he seems a bit odd, deep down there’s a respectable man," she told him, "even if he’d never admit to it. He at least, unlike his brother, respects my title and appreciates my power."

Following those words was another brief moment of hesitation - or rather, deliberation, as if she was trying to decide how much she should say - before she continued. Where before anger had loosened her tongue, it now seemed trust did, in the light of what Octavien himself had just confessed to her. Since her dramatic entrance into his suite, they had come to discover that they were much more alike than they had thought. Passion was no longer the only thing they shared.

"The Comte has been in my service for some time", she continued, now in a much lower voice, as though she was thinking perhaps the walls had ears. And in this place, they just might. "It was he that took care of the Duc of Mollier for me."

Yes... Much more alike than they had first thought. They both had similar ways of protecting themselves, going as far as they would have to, to see to it that their secrets were kept. But only when driven to it.
At least in Octavien's case. He didn't harm people out of spite or just for entertainment, he merely responded to the threat they posed to him, and he suspected Isabella only did the same. Silvius and Adalita had posed a threat to his good name and reputation, to his dignity, and so he had dealt with them accordingly. Marquess Berini had threatened a whole lot more, he had threatened Octavien with total downfall, and thus brought about his own.
Simple self defense.

"He was relaying some news to me about Adalita’s condition when Giles came into the hall", Isabella continued, breaking the silence one more. "Not thinking correctly I rushed out of my Salon, my desire to see you took over my senses."

Yet another pause, as she swallowed, revealing that those were words that had not come easy to her. Apparently, Octavien wasn't the only one who felt he was out on a limb. And if her caress hadn't already soothed his agitation, this statement would have, as it once again showed that she truly cared for him. She would not have lost her head, let alone admitted to it, had he been just someone to keep her amused when she was bored.
Granted, she had already said that he wasn't, by saying that the passionate and sensitive woman she was with him had not existed before he came into her life. But a little further confirmation never hurt.

"Anyhow," she abruptly continued, "he kept me back, with reasons of protecting me from a murderer. Honestly he protected me from possible humiliation as I saw Edouard exit his salon just as I returned to mine."

This time when she fell silent, she stayed silent, having nothing more to say for the time being, but rather giving him a chance to take it all in. He nodded slowly, deep in thought, with his gaze lingering on something ahead of him, in a far away distance. Then it suddenly shifted to meet with hers once again. News about Adalita's condition, she'd said... That was an odd statement, considering the servants were to bring such reports to the royal family personally, without it passing through any of the other courtiers first.
But, before he had the chance to ask, there was a discreet knock on the door, the rhythmic pattern of the tapping letting Octavien know exactly who it was; Gilles.

"Yes?" he said, impatience staining his voice despite him knowing that Gilles would never interrupt without good reason.

A narrow gap opened in the door as Gilles slipped inside, closing the door firmly behind him before giving a lavish bow in the presence of Isabella.

"Your Royal Highnesses", he said, and as he straightened his back they could see he was holding a small white envelope. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but this just arrived for the Prince."

Instead of holding out his hand for Gilles to deliver it to him, Octavien merely motioned for him to open it and read its contents.

"What is it?" he asked, once the servant had slid the note from the envelope, and unfolded it.

"Duc D'Lorraine pays his repects, and wishes Your Highness a full recovery", Gilles said while his eyes quickly scanned the brief note. "He also humbly requests a luncheon at Your Highness' earliest convenience."

Duc D'Lorraine? Again this mysterious Duc D'Lorraine. Octavien's blonde brows furrowed slightly, and he turned his head to give Isabella a look that asked for an explanation. She had mentioned this D'Lorraine having met with herself and the King, and now he wanted to meet with Octavien? Whoever he was, he must be quite a prominent man, to keep such company.

[Shenanigans_SC]

Isabella’s eyes roamed the features of his face while Octavien’s own gaze was somewhere off in the horizon. As he dwelt on her words, her own mind was transported to some place, somewhere far away. Her mind’s eye returned her to the day they met, her day in the forest when she had fixed her own stare at some invisible point in front of her. Oh, how things had changed so quickly. Then their words and glances had just begun to hint that fate had something massive in store for them. If destiny had come and whispered in her ear then that soon she would be sharing her deepest darkest secrets with the then untitled Octavien Lahance, she would have died with laughter. But sure enough, destiny had pulled its strings, orchestrated its events. And now here she was, the most powerful woman of the kingdom, sharing every last bit of herself with him.

Her mind hadn’t long to dwell on it when there was a knock at the door, soon revealing that Giles had an envelope for Octavien. After his bow he opened the note and read it at Octavien’s request. “Duc D’Lorraine pays his respects, and wishes Your Highness a full recovery.” At the mention of Dimitri’s name, Isabella got a sudden ill feeling in her stomach. Granted it was a polite gesture, but the man hadn’t even been in the palace a whole day, and already she felt as if he were putting his nose into her business. Giles soon continued, his words only affirming her suspicions. “He also humbly requests a luncheon at Your Highness’ earliest convenience.” There it was. Isabella took a deep breath in, in attempt to ready herself for a new monumental task.

She switched her gaze quickly from resting upon Giles in expectation to take in Octavien’s expression. It was obviously her moment to continue. “He sure doesn’t waste any time.” She readjusted her posture, as if to get comfortable for the task ahead of her. “Duc D’Lorraine. Dimitri…” she paused trying to recall his last name. “Josephe, I believe. He arrived this morning, an old friend of Edouard’s. More of a mentor I believe, as when they are in the same room, the Duc appears to be the superior of the two. He had taken his leave of Edouard before we were married, so I do not know him as well as I’d like. I do know he is a military man, a firm believer in the might of power properly wielded.” Isabella took in another breath. “This afternoon, Edouard asked him to stay until an advisor is chosen. He wished D’Lorraine to guide him with his decisions. I do not know if he is friend or foe at this point. I am to meet with him tomorrow morning, I was hoping to ascertain then if he shall pose as an obstacle or not.”

Isabella grew silent. There was no more she could offer him. “Then I shall meet with him as well.” Octavien stated simply. He then instructed Giles to make up a note of acceptance informing Dimitri he would have lunch with him the next day. Isabella quietly sat just staring at Octavien as he instructed his manservant. She was studying him, imagining how different things would be if he were the King. Unlike Octavien, Edouard was so easily swayed, though the country saw him as a noble King, Isabella had seen his ways change like the tide. Another would come along in effort to steer him in their direction, and find it a simple task. She wondered why fate was so cruel as to rarely give things to the people who were most deserving of such appointments.

Apparently she had been silent too long as Giles had left the room to tend to his task and she suddenly registered that Octavien was looking upon her, a blonde brow arched, and a small smile upon his lips. It was as if he had caught her in a most compromising position. Coming to her senses she couldn’t hold back a small embarrassed smile. She shook her head in disbelief of herself, sat up right and began to scoot herself off his large bed. She didn’t go anywhere however, as she found his arm wrapped around her suddenly. “What matter of urgency could you possibly have that would drag you from my presence?” he asked, his voice void of any agitation and suspicion that it had been laced with earlier. Now all she heard was the playful mischief that she had so grown to enjoy.

Her own brows rose with her explanation. “You are injured,” she reminded him. “you need your rest.”

“I have had enough sleep for this day.” His eyes challenged her to defy him. With his good arm he managed to pull her closer.

“You need to heal.” She objected simply while leaning into him closer still.

“You are all I need.” With that quiet, simple statement he hushed any other objections that would think to come from her lips. It was his quiet prelude to a kiss that would communicate clearly his intensions for her to stay. Isabella willingly surrendered to him, relieved that the last twenty four hours had finally come to an end. Though their passion had always been there since the very first playful glance, what they shared now was much deeper, much more complex, and far more wondrous.

[Shenanigans_SC]

“The King speaks.” Came Edouard's routine words as he stood upright before the courtiers. It was the second morning that Adalita was not with her family as they stood in the Grand Salon. Edouard’s face showed enough concern without appearing to be weak.

“This morning we once again gather,” he continued, “in hopes to draw nearer to the goal of finding a courtier suitable to take the place of the late Duc of Mollier.” He gestured towards a servant to bring him a nicely tied scroll. As the servant came closer he announced a name. “Comte Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes” he called for him to step forward. Edouard descended the steps and stood before the Comte. “It is the opinion of our beloved Queen that you are most deserving of the title of Duc.” With ceremonious action he promoted Felix.

As he made his way back towards his position he continued to announce the arrival of Duc d’Lorraine to the group that had gathered, pointing the man out for all to see.

With all things tended to, he offered his arm to Isabella and the royal family left the room.

((OOC: I am sorry this is short and rather crappy. It just wasn’t coming to me.))

[Shenanigans_SC]

Octavien had convinced Isabella easily enough to stay with him in his quarters. Despite his insisting the deep gash did not hamper him Isabella knew better of the young man’s bravado. After their moments of sweet kisses she soon found herself lying upon his bed, his left arm wrapped around her. They laid there for a bit, sharing what each of them had to do the next day. Isabella planning mentally to meet with Dimitri in the morning, and Mercy in the afternoon. She asked Octavien if he planned to pay Federico a visit, as the sooner that man was out of the Palace, the better she’d feel. His answer had been a simple agreement.

Then silence took over them, as Isabella’s thoughts lingered on trying to decipher where exactly they stood, what exactly she was feeling. She didn’t approve of the fact her feelings had taken over her earlier this day. She made a mental note to herself that she would really have to be aware, more so than usual of her actions. She had always been the level headed, in control Queen. She couldn’t allow her heart to change that.

And while she knew she could continue to be that said identity, she also could not deny that whatever it was that had taken control of her was a force to be reckoned with. She dwelt on that. Sure Octavien had changed her, he had introduced her to worlds she had thought previously to be mere fanciful illusions. Dreams of the young underprivileged. And now, well now she thought perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps there really was an invisible feeling so tangible to build unbreakable bonds. She soon feared that if she did not claim it, if she did not make it hers, then it would claim her, taking over her actions again at the most inopportune time.

With her head resting on his left shoulder, and her fingers dancing gingerly over his chest, she mustered up the courage she needed to speak it audibly. “Octavien…” she started quietly to gain his attention. “You have introduced me to many things, you’ve changed me in so many ways. The biggest difference you’ve made is in my heart.” She scolded herself for dragging this out so long. Just say the damn words already. “The other night, when I looked upon you, and you asked why it was I was searching your face...” There was no answer, but she continued. “I believe it was love.” Isabella was silent, waiting for his answer, an answer that would not come.

She raised her head to look upon his face, she could discern his thoughts by looking into his eyes if he would not answer. However, she soon found his eyes to be closed. During their silent moments Octavien had drifted off to sleep. A smile came over her face as she studied his peaceful expression while he slept. Her eyes took in the bandages on his other shoulder. She had seen how deep that wound was, it had taken all her might to act as if it did not affect her. And her eyes returned to his face, she knew then that he must return her feelings. It was not simply himself he was fighting for, it was her as well. Then she knew.

With the safety of knowing no one was listening, she softly stated it to the sleeping man beside her. “Thank you, for all your gifts to me, the greatest of which is love. For I do believe I love you Octavien Lahance.” She reached over and placed an ever so gentle kiss upon his cheek, wishing to not wake him. She then left for her own Suite. Despite what he had said the hour or two ago, he did indeed need his sleep.

The new morning shed light on a slightly better rested Isabella. She had risen early to pay another visit to the Princess’ room. She looked upon the girl with sadness and pity. It was such a waste really, her father in his detachment had done the girl a world of harm. She also relayed to the Royal Physician what she had come to suspect after her visit with Felix. She hoped the information would make some sort of a difference, however she doubted it.

The rest of the morning went as routine as always. She was pleased to see that despite Edouard’s persistence of Duc d’Lorraine staying, he chose to listen to her and promote Comte d’Cognac. Now he was a Duc, an equal in rank to his brother. It was only a matter of time before she would have him appointed advisor. Things were looking up indeed.

After the announcements, she returned to her Suite, preparing to meet with Duc d’Lorraine. If this tour of the palace went as well as the rest of things had begun going, it would prove to be a very good day indeed.

((OOC: Whenever you're ready Seiza, Dimitri can find Isabella in her Salon. Or if you want to get there first, that's fine too.))

[Fayreview]

((Just a note to say I'm sorry I have been ignoring you all, my weekend was.... difficult. But I'm back now and paying attention guys!))

[Seiza]

The next morning found Dimitri standing by the windows of his suite, looking for all the world nothing like a man who had spent a cold evening in the gardens, dressed and ready to greet the sleepy sun. He was a lucky man, for two of his four walls held windows as tall as he—he could easily see the palace stables from where he stood; the far-off whinny of horses would be a good sound to wake up to.

He was watching several servants trudge through the icy morning to get to the stables, when the door to his suite opened softly. Rukov, having announced the arrival of the Prince’s aid earlier, now stood together with the elderly man in his suite.

“Duc d’Lorraine,” the man bowed, to which Dimitri replied in kind. “I am Gilles, with a message from His Royal Highness Prince Octavien.” As he handed the letter, he continued in a slightly apologetic tone, “The Prince, being injured in the attack, was regrettably unable to pen the letter himself. Though the writing may be my own, the words are His Highness’.”

Dimitri thought the writing perfectly fine for a manservant, and nodded his appreciation. “Thank you, Gilles. Your writing is most pleasant to read.” If the man was surprised by his compliment, the Duc did not register it. He had spent a good many years treating his men that way. “Please inform the Prince that I will be honoured to join him for lunch. You may inform Rukov here or myself after the morning announcement where I shall meet him.”

“Very good, sir.”

After the door closed, Rukov spoke up. “I delivered your note to Baroness Venn last night, my lord. Should I cancel your meeting with her today?”

He had read the Baroness’ note after returning from the gardens, the indirectness of which had thrown him off yet made him chuckle. Not expecting the Prince to reply to him so soon, he had accepted her invitation and had Rukov deliver the note immediately. Dimitri thought it over. Although a meeting with the Prince himself took priority above almost anything else, it did not sit well with the Duc to cancel his appointment with Baroness Venn either.

“Nevermind, Rukov. I doubt it will be a long luncheon. The Prince will need his rest. Nonetheless, I expect you nearby should I need a message delivered urgently to Baroness Venn.”

His aid nodded, and they prepared to walk to the Grand Salon for the morning’s announcement.


***

Dimitri resisted the urge to groan as a horde of nobles surrounded him on their way out of the Grand Salon. As he feared, Edouard had openly announced his presence among them, and now a fair number of courtiers chattered mindlessly around him about nothing at all. None of them had paid him any attention the day before, when he had arrived tired and unwashed and clothing rumpled, and their two-faced behaviour galled his senses terribly.

Well! If he could not out-silence them, then he could certainly out-walk them. The Duc was never happier than now to see the stairs to the Queen’s Salon.

Knowing full well none of them could follow him there, he suddenly kissed the hand of the nearest lady, bade them all goodbye and made full use of his long legs to escape up the stairs.

Somehow, during the commotion, Rukov had stayed with him. The man now waited near the bottom of the stairs, adding his formidable strength to the guards’. Dimitri made himself presentable, tucking away stray hairs that escaped from their ribbon, his dark suit, his cream cravat; before the guard announced his presence to the Queen.

______

((Sorry for the slow reply, been busy moving back and forth between home and hostel. Shenan, feel free to bring Dimitri in and start somewhat on the tour. :)

*hugs* Sorry to hear that, Fayre, but glad you're back!))

[AtropaMandragora]

The night past had colored Octavien a liar. Despite what he had told Isabella, the young man was exhausted, and it hadn't been long - compared to the previous nights they had spent together - before he drifted off to sleep. His injured arm had kept them from giving in to the unbridled passion that usually overtook them sooner or later, and they had just laid in each others arms, sharing many amorous kisses in between a few scattered words here and there. Mostly, there had just been silence, with gentle fingertips travelling affectionately over naked skin, and Octavien had found the warmth of Isabella's body in his embrace so soothing that finally he could no longer fight his tired body, and tired mind. He had heard her voice somewhere in a far away distance, and struggled to cling to it, to hear her words, but it had been in vain. The needs that had been put aside for so long had finally claimed every last part of him, and he had drifted off to sleep, kept a prisoner by the exhaustion brought to him over the course of the past coule of days.

Only once dawn approached was he released, and he woke up to find that Isabella was gone. And according to Gilles, she had been gone for some time, having left shortly after midnight. That's when it occured to him. He had fallen asleep in her presence, and, if memory served him correctly, while she had been talking to him. Oh, the horror, the embarassment. When she had protested, he had claimed he'd needed no more sleep, that he simply needed her, only to shortly thereafter prove himslef to be nothing more than an overly confident fool. How humiliating.
However, Gilles soon eased his mind, claiming that the Queen had seemed most understanding, and not at all offended when he had escorted her back to the doors to her suite. "A most extraordinary woman, even for a Queen", he had said, well aware that whatever it was that had developed between her and his young master, it was something far different than any of Octavien's earlier escapades, for never before had he gone to such lengths to protect anyone else so ferociously and with such fervor
Yes... A most extraordinary woman indeed.

During Octavien's usual morning procedure of washing off, being groomed and dressed, the royal physician took the opportunity to visit, in order to examine the wound and change the bandages, and Octavien learned, much to his distress, that Adalita's condition had still not seen a change for the better. She was still as pale and fragile, a mere innuendo of the vibrant young woman she had been just two days earlier. Hope was wearing thinner with each hour that passed, and it was with a heavy heart that the physician prepared the young Prince that their worst fears might soon come true, and he would be a widower within less than a week of his wedding.

Needless to say, the morning annoucement was just as sombre as the last one. But this time, Octavien found himself able to pay a little more attention. Last morning, he had been all too wrapped up in his own plans and concerns, but now that the ones he could take care of himself had been taken care of, he was once again focused, and paid great attention when Comte d’Cognac was promoted to the title of Duc. As the dark-haired man stepped forward to recieve the scroll handed to him by the King, Octavien studied him quite intently, behind blue eyes wearing the usual mask of unconcerned cordiality.
So... This was 'Felix', the young man who had put himself to Isabella's disposal, and earned her respect. Silvius' brother, and, from what Isabella had said about their similarities, rival. Both dark-haired, and both fairly handsome. But, even at a first impression, some of their differences were quite obvious. For one, Comte - now Duc - d’Cognac was actually present for the morning announcement, a virtue his no-good brother had never learned to master, despite it's simplicity. And he even seemed to pay proper attention, instead of allowing his eyes to roam the Salon like a bored adolescent, in search of some young pretty thing to drool over.
Impressive, considering his heritage, if one was to draw conclusions of it's nature based on the behaviour of his brother.
Then again, perhaps Silvius was the sore thumb of that family, not Felix. Either way, Octavien made a mental note to have a "run-in" with the man sooner or later, to further assess him and his wit.

But that was to be a later matter. This morning, Octavien had other, more important things to do. There were loose ends that needed tying up. Minutes after the morning announcement's closing, he was on his way down to the dungeons, to see the prisoner, Marquess Berini, whom no one else had been allowed access to since he'd been brought down there. The reason that was to be given to anyone that tried, was that there were suspicions that there was more to the story than just the Marquess' hatred of the Prince. Given the fact that Adalita fell ill only hours before there was an attempt made on the Prince's life, it wasn't far fetched for anyone to think that perhaps there really was a conspiracy to rid the kingdom of the newlyweds. Thus, no one except Octavien himself was to talk to the prisoner, lest a possible accomplice got the the Marquess before the matter had a chance of being fully investigated.

It had all served to allow Octavien some time to gather his thoughts, and the Marquess to stew in his anxiety and fear for a while, making him that much more agreeable once Octavien decided it was time finish up the whole ordeal.
It was a method that had proved most efficent. The Marquess turned out to be very sympathetic to Octavien's wishes, and after a mere twenty minutes, the Prince made his way back to his suite, having given the Marquess his word that he would soon be allowed to see the light of day again, as long as it was on his journey away from the kingdom in which he was to never set foot again.

Feeling rather content with how well his plan had worked out, Octavien entered his suite, only to find yet another note waiting for him. This one, it turned out, was from Baroness Flight, and it soon had the smugness fading from the young Prince's mind, mentioning how a 'most pressing matter' had come to her attention and that it was urgent that she speak with him. Octavien knew the court well enough by now to realize that whatever it was, it was not likely that it was something all too pleasant. Which was all the more reason not to keep it waiting. Within minutes of having read it, a reply was dispatched with one of the young maids that were now part of his staff of servants.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Baroness Flight,

As I value your opinions and concerns as much as I do your company, this matter of urgency of yours shall be kept waiting no longer. Please find me in my suite, to share your thoughts over morning tea.

Cordialement,
Prince Octavien Lahance

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



(((ooc: Sorry if the last part is rushed. I gotta ruuuuuuun. :D )))

[Shenanigans_SC]

After the morning announcements Isabella readied herself for the morning ahead of her. She had held several “meetings” before, certainly the task ahead of here was not uncharted territory. However, this meeting was also unlike any other she had had previously. She did not have time to get to know the man, ascertaining if he would be cooperative or not. Even if she wished to use her feminine beauty to her advantage, which she did not, she doubted it would work on the war hardened Duc. The Duc had an air about him that reminded her much of Comte Gabriel-Lucien, another man who should have had the title others were granted but did not deserve.

If her gut feeling was correct, which it usually was, the best approach to take was an honest one. First, to show him that unlike her husband, she knew how royalty was to behave what was expected of her because of the crown she wore. She would prove herself in his eyes to be wise beyond her years. After she had done so, it would be safe to voice the fact that must have been obvious to him, despite his adoration for Edouard. That Edouard indeed was need of help. Maybe, just maybe, she hoped she would not have to be the first to state what was so blatantly obvious.

She was not in her salon but a few moments when a servant came through it announcing the Duc's arrival. She turned away from the northern window to acknowledge Dimitri’s presence. As the doors closed behind him, he fell into a deep bow, Isabella steadily made her way towards him, not to fast as to appear forceful, but not too slow as to seem lethargic. “Duc d’Lorraine,” she began with a polite cordial smile, “you are very prompt, a virtue I hold in high regard.” She smiled politely as he took her hand in his to place a quick kiss of greeting on her knuckles.

“I was just admiring the view of the forest,” she began, walking back towards the window she had been standing near. “I do so anticipate the arrival spring, I love the picture it paints of life returning to the seemingly dead trees, proving that any disaster is not eternal.”

As Dimitri gave his reply she simply listened to him, watching his mannerisms, looking for any signal on if he had his own ulterior motive for their meeting. Once he seemed done with his reply, Isabella clasped her hands together in front of her. “Shall we depart?” after he gave his acceptance the two of them left her salon and headed down the stairs. “I think we shall begin with the East Wing, although you may be quite familiar with it already, since your living quarters are located there.” As they neared the bottom of the stairs, she noticed his aid, Rukov, staring up at them.

((OOC: Fay, I’m sorry to hear you had a rough weekend. Glad to have you back! I can’t wait to see Mercy back in action! Really, it’s driving me crazy trying to predict what she’ll do. ;)

Seiza – I hope this is okay. If you’d like me to change anything, please just say the word. I’ll be happy to adapt it. I figured the masses of courtiers would have dissipated by time we headed down, but thought Rukov would stay there loyally. But he’s not my NPC, so I really don’t know.))

[Fayreview]

Mercy only vaguely paid attention to the morning announcement she merely registered that it was ridiculous that a man so long absent from the court should have a title jump. she smiled as she wondered at what he'd had to do for that, scruffy little oik. She suddenly realised what she had just suggested to herself and went pale.

She couldn't believe it but she had seen it herself and in reality it made sense, when you put together the testimonies of various courtiers and staff. what to do, what to do....the reply soon answered that, she had had her hair trimmed the day before and the sun lightened bits were in part removed, it was a mousey colour know and she had it pinned behind her head, in a style more of formality her dress was a dark grey with black accents. In deed she seemed to be particularly serious today. quite fitting really.

On recieving the reply from the young Prince she set out, a grave thought in her heart and nothing more than practised grace and poise in her step. Her shoes were unusually flat, but they were more comfortable. Her head hurt slightly at the prospect of what was to come. Why was life so awkward she wondered as she approached the door of the Princes' rooms alone and had a Palace guard alert the occupant to her presense.

[Haylifer]

Three hours had passed since I'd recieved new orders from the Queen. Three hours spent pacing, planning and psychoanalysing every courtier down to their preferences in ruff size, all washed down with copious quantities of more brandy. And despite having paced what must have been miles around my suite, I was not a single step closer to demasking the traitor. I traipsed over to the large windows, glaring at the pinpricks of stardust appearing in the sky, forbidding them to appear and snatch even more time from me. They didn't seem to take much notice though, so I rounded on Pierre to vent my frustration at being unable to think clearly.

"Mon Dieu, do you have nothing better to do than skulk around my boudoir robbing my privacy?" I said harshly. The manservant inclined his head, in that polite yet slimy mannerism only he posessed.

"What would my lord have me do?" he said, not completely masking the bitterness in his voice.

"Oh, I don't know." I waved my arms in the air impatiently. "Just go forth into the street. And don't come back until morning, you're contaminating my thoughts." I watched as he scampered off, eager to escape my company. Turning from the window, I crossed the room to the polished tantalus from Moscow, fiddling with the complex contraption until I held a mouthful of Russia's finest export. Cringing slightly as it burned its path down my throat, I threw myself down atop of the four-poster bed and exhaled deeply. I rubbed my temples slightly in the hope it may provoke some divine intervention to my brain, but alas, God delights in being cruel to me.

* * *

I must have fallen asleep sprawled out atop of the bed like that, for next thing I knew it was dawn, my head felt like the devil, and Pierre was back. As my eyes adjusted to the morning light, I noticed he wasn't standing obediently in the corner like a good servant but rifling through cupboards as though he had lost something precious. I pushed myself up from the bed, silently tiptoeing up behind the filthy crook and coughing lightly.

"Lost something?" I commented, delighting in watching the greaseball squirm round to face me. He pulled a contorted expression that might have been an attempt at a smile, probably to try appease me before I chopped his head off right there on the spot. But I had little time for menial matters like beheading a decaying old servant; for some reason, my subconscious mind seemed to think I had somewhere to attend this morning. I couldn't for the life of me remember though, nor could I trust that damned rat to keep organise of my life for me. At first, my mind jumped to a brand new waistcoat, tailor-made in Milan with spun golden thread. But my subconscious thoughts nagged at me again, telling me I had little time to look my best for the occasion. Anyway, surely if the matter was of any gross importance, I wouldn't have forgotten so easily - bearing this thought in mind, I demoted the days choice of wardrobe to something less flamboyant.

I had just finished pulling on the second white glove to complete the outfit when my memory hit me in the face like a.. well, glove. Of course! The morning address! And if memory served me correctly, the last one I attended before I left in such a hurry, I was late to. Again. Did the court expect anything more from Comte Felix? Surely not. But I couldn't let it happen again, my conscience told me, not on my first full day of return to the court. Ruffles not quite tidy, I leapt up to reinstate the usual palace-morning tradition of fleeing from my suite like a rabid hound, racing down the stairs and bowing like some suave privateer to any passing courtier (particularly to the ladies).

Thankfully, this morning was one that broke tradition. I arrived almost on time, clattering through the doors into court and crashing into some old crone who proceeded to elbow me harshly in the ribs, probably breaking a few. Still clutching my injured ribs, I tried to listen as she croaked in my face.

"Felix Peitou-Charentes?" she inquired, glaring toadishly at me.

"Yes," I wheezed, ignoring the pain below my chest. "It's Comte to you, crone."

The old woman swelled indignantly, then directed one wisened old finger towards the front of court, where the King stood awaiting silence to address his court. Voices hushed as he began to speak, and my attention vaguely wandered between his words and the girl in the claret-red dress. That is, until I caught the end of his last sentence.

"... Peitou-Charentes"

I turned quizically to the old crone, silently mouthing to her a question. Did he refer to me or my absent brother? A hand in the small of the back pushed me forwards rather too violently, and I stumbled forwards silently grumbling over the injustice to both my ribs and spine and now this great inconvenience of having to step before the King. Speaking of which, I had no idea why I was being presented before the court. Probably for some jolly morning 'execution of the failures' ceremony.

“It is the opinion of our beloved Queen that you are most deserving of the title of Duc.” said the King, stepping forward to bestow the honour upon me. Suddenly I forgot about the broken ribs and stood up a little straighter. This was interesting.

With all eyes upon me, I couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of stage fright. I wasn't sure what I should have been doing, so instead I bowed low and grinned like a merry idiot, watching as the King went about the ceremonial proceedings that accompanied the promotion. When he was apparently finished, I bowed deeply again, this time seeking out Queen Isabella's eyes as I did. I gave her a brief smile in acknowledgement, then fell back amidst the courtiers.

My promotion wasn't a mere congratulatory clap on the back, though. Of course, it was in part a thankyou gift for the efforts I'd made. But being made Duc put me one step higher on the ladder towards becoming advisor to the King. The Queen wanted a strong ally in that position, and I'd have to continue to prove to her that I was capable of being just that. And if I landed myself the role? Well, the constant scrutiny of the nation didn't appeal to me much. But the more mature side to me reasoned that I couldn't go on forever running around with women and alcohol like a teenage boy. Though at the tender young age of twenty-two, with all that vigor of youth to spare, surely a few more years of hedonism wouldn't hurt anyone..

"Duc Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes. That's interesting. Though now I have one more thing in common with that infernal brother of mine. Duc Cognac, perhaps", I said aloud after the court had been dismissed, allowing the title to play around my lips, tasting it. Conveniently, my boasting was in earshot of that pretty thing in the red dress. Perhaps I'd make her acquaintance later, but the sudden brainwave occured to me that an occasion like this demanded partying, music, wine and ceremony of a different kind. Later on today, I would have to round up a few pals for a night of well-deserved, heavy indulgence.

((Completely braindead right now. Oh wells, I'll RP again properly when it turns midday, but for now this is just a quickie to say 'I'm not dead!' Yay for Duc Peitou-Charentes II :P No computer access over the weekend because I broke it xD Gotta love my failed geekdom.))

[AtropaMandragora]

Even though the note from Baroness Flight had expressed a great urgency in meeting with him, Octavien was surprised that only a few minutes after the young girl servant had returned from delivering his reply, the arrival of the Baroness at his door was announced. Granted, he had expected her soon, but not this soon. Whatever was on the older woman's mind, it must be a pressing matter indeed for her to hurry so.

As he was just in the middle of changing from one frock coat to another, he motioned for Gilles to give him a minute. The dungeons had been most unpleasant, and he had returned to his suite with clothes that to him seemed both dusty and damp, although they probably felt it more than they looked it. Still, being anything but perfectly comfortable in the situation - which included his clothes - would immediately show, and that was something he could not tolerate. Thus, he had one of the servants help him off with the dark forest green coat he'd worn for the morning announcement, and fetch him a midnight blue one instead. Only once he'd been helped into it, did he motion for Gilles to open the doors.

"Please, show her in", he said, and gave himself a quick glance in the mirror to make sure he looked proper, with no rouge strands of hair falling out from the ribbon that, as always, was used to tie it back.

Seconds later the doors parted when Gilles pushed them open, and as the Baroness entered the suite, Octavien started making his way over to the small table and the comfortable arm chairs in the center of the room, while buttoning the last few buttons in the new coat.

"Baroness Flight", he greeted her with faint smile. "Your feet carry you swiftly. Please, take a seat."

He motioned towards the armchairs, and then waved as hand at one of the young servants to prepare serving the tea. Then his gaze settled on Mercy once again, taking a moment to study her face, as he remembered the small cut that had blemished her features when last they met, but also in an attempt to discern whatever it was that could possibly be on her mind.

"I take it you are in good health, considering you look as radiant as ever?"

[stylequeen_SC]

Silvius smiled at Annelise, letting her rest her hand on his arm as they strolled through the rose gardens. He sighed happily, enjoying her presence again even though he still missed Adalita even though he hadn't seen her for a while: and hadn't kissed her in longer

"It's true I have really missed you" he said to her, smiling happily as they sat down on a bench beside each other

He moved slightly to make room for Annelise's large dress as she sat down, and he simply gazed at her happily. Silvius sighed once more, he didn't know what to say, just relaxed in her presence under the warm sun

"So...my darl...I mean, Annelise, what have you been up to while you've been away?" he asked, "any suave young lovers?" he teased

[Fayreview]

"Radiant?" My the Prince is certainly too kind to an old Dame like myself." Mercy spoke lightly but did not smile, she watched as the young lady who served the tea left. She sensed rather than knew about the presense of the Prince's faithful manservant. But that was too be expected and she had no doubt she could speak in front of him.

She still knew to approach with caution one could not just jump in to conversations, she felt cold in the man's room, it was not cold, she just felt it perhaps it was her feelings or perhaps it was her purpose in being there, whatever it was she refused to shiver. She did not want to detract from what she felt was her obligation.

"My dear Prince are we alone?" She asked quietly, "I of course do not refer to your right hand man but I feel that this conversation is not one for all open ears." She did not look at him but rather forward and slightly down, so that from the distance from him at which she sat, she could only see his legs and even then just out of the corner of her eye. "Afterall you should be perfectly safe around me, I am but a humble Baroness and am hardly a threat to an upstanding man such as yourself." She spoke plainly again her voice even quieter and slightly sombre in tone. She did not mention his injury, she did not need to feel sorry for the man at this moment.

[RubyAmbition]

{{Can you get off each other about accurate-ness?}}

Annelise gigglied slightly, resting her pale eyes on the man beside her. She had indeed missed him, and had missed the fact that they always managed to miss the morning address, such as they had this morning. She let her curled hair fall around her shoulders, not bothering to brush it away.

"what have you been up to while you've been away? Any suave young lovers?"

"Alas, no. I didn't meet anyone, just a few grave robbers. And I had no plans to, it was simply for family matters, Silvius. I thought I'd mentioned that, but maybe not." She smiled, light and airy in the morning sun. "I'd like to know who you were involved with while I was away. That, or what you did."

The more she thought about, the more obvious it became. He'd probably been with Adalita, a few stray glances at other women, a few stray thoughts about her. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to.

She leaned across the space between them, and kissed his lips lightly. "Sorry." She bit her lip, almost worried he wouldn't be fine with this.

[Fayreview]

((Ruby as our darling shenan has always said Accuracy is soooo very important in this roleplay, and so we all have to allow ourselves to be corrected.))

[stylequeen_SC]

Silvius breathed in happily and looked down at Annelise. She was different from what he remembered, but she was possibly even better, and he gently stroked her hair. She kissed him; and he smiled with glee and exhaled happily

"Hmm I'm certainly missed that" he laughed

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet, scowling at the time of day and he grinned again though, just enough to look into her eyes made him swoon uncontrollably. Oh yes, he had missed her more than he knew

"I wasn't involved much..." Silvius said, biting his lip in the same way, "Adalita and I had something for a while: we were engaged" he looked down at the gold band on his ring finger still, "but she married Octavien"

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Ruby - What do you mean? There's a big difference between months and simply 48 hours, and it makes a HUGE difference in game-play... We have set days and times of days, so that everyone will know where and when we are at...)))


What Octavien saw when studying the Baroness as they both sat down by the small table had him worried. It was evident that whatever was on her mind, was weighing quite heavily on her fragile shoulders as well. Everything about her - her posture, her expression, her body language, the way her gaze favored the floor over Octavien himself - made that all too clear.
And even if it hadn't, her words alone would be testament enough that something was indeed not as it should be.

At her question if they were alone, Octavien looked around the spacious room, and as she kept on talking, he gave Gilles a discreet nod. To most, it might not have said all that much, but to the older man, it was a message to see to it that no one disturbed them, at least not until Octavien gave further notice.

When she reached the statement of posing no threat to him, Octavien's aristocratic brows furrowed, his mind reeling, trying to figure out what exactly she was hinting at.

"My dear Baroness Flight", he said as her ever lowering voice finally ceased to be heard at all. "You worry me. Please, what is it that causes you this much distress, and how may I help?"

[Fayreview]

"I want you to tell me something Octavien..." Mercy turned to look at him. She had used his first name, but at that moment social class could not be a boundary, she was doing a job, something she had to do.

"She is still a young woman, indeed a trapped young woman. And for that reason I cannot be sure she fully understands her own feelings." she clasped her hands tightly in her hands, the words she was speaking sounded so strange, especially with the stress on the word trapped but she felt they were necessary. "And so I must ask about your feelings for her, her husband may not stir up the feelings within her that you do..." she paused, "but emotions can be unrequited." She held his gaze, he was no longer the Prince, he was in that moment the man who had once requested her daughter's hand in marriage, the man she had let slip through without making sure he was good enough. Her deepest regret and the wedge between mother and daughter, and whilst Octavien seemed nice, many people did, especially within this court.

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Yes, I'm afraid accuracy is something we really need to strive for in this RP. It's so brilliantly twisted all on it's own merit, it doesn't need more things to throw us off. Also, I'd like to verify that it is now the next day for Silvius and Annalise. Only cause stylequeen, your post seems take off right from where Silvius was last. But in that time Ruby had written posts with Seiza saying she left Silvius in the gardens. There's also no mention to the night passing and the new day being made. I'm not trying to be a brat, just these things really need to stay in line. Other wise I wouldn't bother to announce new parts of days, and new days. We'd all just go along on our merry way. But this RP can't function correctly with that.))

[AtropaMandragora]

"I want you to tell me something Octavien..."

Hearing the Baroness address him by his first name, the young Prince blinked with surprise, almost as though he thought he must've heard her wrong. "Octavien"? What on earth had gotten in to her, all of a sudden? Granted, her tone thus far had been fairly less formal than was customary, but Octavien hadn't minded. Nor did he really mind her using his first name, as he was still having a bit of trouble digesting his recent change of title. Or rather, titleS. But... calling a royal by their first name, even with their consent, was a delicate matter. Doing so without their consent, could be interpreted as a downright insult, a blatant sign of complete and utter disrespect.
And the Baroness was not foolish enough to deliberately offend a member of the royal family, previously untitled or not. Nor was she by any means ill-bred enough to do it unintentionally.

However, before he had the chance to even give her a questioning look, she continued, and what she had to say was to shock him even more than the use of his first name did.
At first, he thought she was talking about Adalita; a young woman, "trapped" in an arranged marriage to someone she didn't particularly care for (despite his good intentions to keep her and the rest of her family from being the laughing stock of the kingdom), even though the "trap" had only been the result of her own foolish doing. But as the Baroness mentioned "her husband", seemingly referring to someone other than Octavien, he blinked again.
And then he paled. All color seemed to drain from his face, to vanish in a heart beat, as it dawned on him who this "young woman" Mercy spoke of really was.
But... It was impossible! There was no way she could know! They had been so very careful, trusting only Gilles and Margret with their secret, and those two would rather run head first into a flaming building before ever betraying Octavien and Isabella to anyone.

Staring at Mercy, who now had him firmly fixed with her piercing gaze, Octavien's initial reaction was to deny, deny, deny. For everyone's sake. Isabella's especially. Things would be bad enough for him if word got out, but it was Isabella that had seen to it that he was promoted, and everyone knew it. He had arrived at this court, nothing but an untitled but wealthy young man. People would, on some logical, decadent level, understand his desire to climb the social ladder, and for doing what he could to do so. But no one would understand the Queen's reasons for doing what she had done.

But, as he looked at the expression on Mercy's face, he knew that even if he did deny it, she wouldn't believe him, no matter how good an actor he was. And she wasn't bluffing, of that he was certain. She was a shrewd woman, yes, but the Prince truly doubted she was a malicious one.

His reasoning left him with only one option. Only one thing remained; the truth. And, even though it didn't require any acting skills, or tactical thinking, it was perhaps the most difficult thing to say, of all, considering it was the first time he really addressed his feelings, and it wasn't even to the person that ought to be the first to hear it.

"I...", he started, after swallowing once, and being silent for a few seconds, trying to gather his thoughts and find the right words. "Whatever her feelings may be, unrequited they are not. That you must believe. I have gone as far as to condemned myself to a marriage to a girl that neither loves me nor respects me, simply to be close to... her."

[Fayreview]

Mercy nodded gently, she had absorbed the looks the young Prince had given her, she watched his instincts be broken down and reconstructed into the something much more constructive, the truth. She listened to his tentative words, words she felt were sincere and perhaps even previously unspoken. She left the untouched teacup on the table and rose. Drawing herself up to her full height, she walked towards him.

"That was a good answer and it has brought you three things, only one of which you truly need, first my respect for what you are willing to do, second my silence on this matter, in return for yours, I see no need for this discussion to reach the Queens' ear... and third..." She paused what was the point? It was a token gesture and would he even take it the right way? Well he had taken everything thus far in his stride "and third... my blessing." She lowered herself gently so her face was level with the Princes', and so her positioning prevented him from standing.

"But be warned, if you ever hurt that beautiful young woman, I will make your last attacker seem like the Queen's maid." The irony of this statement of course was not known to Mercy. "I will hunt you down." She paused, and blinked." And kill you." Her last words were so quiet that had she not been commanding all of Octaviens attention she would have sworn he would not be able to hear her.

She took the young man's hand, and gently kissed it in the way one indeed should treat Royalty. Before raising, turning on her heel and walking swiftly and decidedly out of his chambers with a pain-stakingly polite, "My deepest wishes for your speedy return to health your Highness."

(( :blink: :blink: :blink: Well who'da thought Mercy was capable of that? :blink: ))

[Fayreview]

((I'm off to bed too. And no, I don't really expect him to! But it has been said and Mercy shall deal with the repercussions :)))

[Haylifer]

((LOL fayre, I really wouldn't want to bump into Mercy on a bad day! Formidable is an understatement xD Silvius and Annelise need to hop in the great RPing time machine I have often used and make their way back to the future :D Meh, I'm silly and tired and apologizing for spam is just as bad as spamming :einstein I'll shut up now))

[Seiza]

((*bliiiiiiiiiiiinks* Wow, that was unexpected. Mercy Does Not Approve, so the Prince best beware. XD

Ruby mentioned missing the morning announcement in her post, I believe, so I think we can all assume Annelise and Silvius decided to skip the announcement and head straight for the gardens.

Shenan, you got Rukov spot on. :D Generally he's an obedient aid, but he knows when he can push his luck with his lord.))
______


“I do so anticipate the arrival of spring, I love the picture it paints of life returning to the seemingly dead trees, proving that any disaster is not eternal.” Although the Queen’s words were picture-perfect small talk, it was her appearance that Dimitri found himself focusing on: standing by the windows, the sun filtered through the frosted glass to bathe her in gentle streaks of pale light. It made her seem even younger than she already was, yet she stood tall, held upright by the experience of age. It was an image that jarred him and ate at him with annoying discomfort.

She turned to him, and Dimitri immediately smoothened the frown that shadowed his face.

“Spring is indeed magnificent, but I find winter a most undervalued season. It is a force to be reckoned with, making time stand still until the snow decides, finally, when it is satisfied; to thaw.” A thoughtful pause. His grey eyes were far-away, softened with memories. “Perhaps seeing it as the Great Preserver of Life, rather than the Great Destroyer, might make Your Majesty’s future winters more pleasant.”

Isabella was watching him. That disturbed him too. So the Duc smiled, dispelling the wistfulness in his features. “That is what I tell my youngest sister, because she mourns the winter too.” Women.

She seemed to give his words some thought, before clasping her hands together. “Shall we depart?”

They passed Rukov on the way down, who was openly staring and not trying in any way to keep himself hidden. As a result, the Queen immediately saw him. She continued speaking calmly, but when she did not see, the Duc gestured for him to make himself invisible. Rukov bowed deeply to them before sliding through a random door.

“I apologise if Rukov disturbs you, Your Majesty. He comes from a remote village in Russia, and the only women he has been exposed to have been dark-haired and rough-spoken. Clearly, he finds you extraordinary in comparison.” Dimitri’s tone switched from a long-suffering parent’s to firm assurance. “But he is simple, honest and will do you no harm.”

Isabella remained very gracious about Rukov: if his presence had disturbed her, he did not see it.

She proceeded to tell Dimitri about the nobles who inhabited the Eastern suites; Dimitri listened attentively, absorbing all she said and replying appropriately. But he was a multi-tasker at heart, and some part of his mind was still battling that odd sensation niggling at the back of his mind. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, yet it was as familiar as the beating of his heart. Like a lost friend. Or an old enemy.

They were finished with the eastern Salons, passing the Grand Salon to the Throne Room, and conversing politely along the way. Dimitri recalled that morning’s announcement and shook his head. “I must say, I was quite surprised that the Comte d’Cognac received such an honour. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of his family for as long as I can remember—if not for their infamous sons, I suppose I wouldn’t have heard of them at all.”

He would have softened his disapproval, by saying that the former Comte must have performed extraordinarily in his absence to gain the Queen’s favour, but Dimitri turned to her before the words left his lips. Then he saw her expression, her posture, her eyes—there may have been something or nothing in them at all—but suddenly he knew. The niggling, discomforting emotion suddenly exploded into clarity. It was a feeling he had not experienced in over thirty years: the sensation of entering a war.

______

((...hmm, ending may be wee dramatic... XD))

[funheart00]

((ooc;; Just popping in to tell you I haven't vanished from the face of the earth... I'm really sorry, but real life managed to really get in the way this past week or so, but everything seems back to normal now, so I'll put a post up when morning is called or so... love all the drama happening by the way... :)

Edit: Oh .. lol, I'll have a post up in a while then x.x Thanks Atropa...))

[RubyAmbition]

Annelise waited outside his door, ready to go riding. She didn't care how cold it was, how frowned upon it was, all she cared about was the guy with her. Silvius. He made small activities fun, and made her feel less bad about herself. He was absolutely amazing, and she realized how much she had missed him in that short time she had been away.

She knocked loudly on his door, her heavy riding dress making rustling noises. "Oh, for my own sake, Silvius! It can not honestly take a man this long to get ready? Have you decided to get your hair done up?" She smiled, it was improbable that he would do that. The only benefit of this was that she was getting a few odd looks from the servants in the hall.

She had truly missed these simple things. And being around him was making her very girlish and giggly. All over again.

[AtropaMandragora]

Only seconds had passed since his somewhat reluctant confession, when Mercy rose, and strode towards him, suddenly showing almost the exact opposite of the mildness seen in the recent and gentle nod of her head as she had listened to his words. Now, she stood towering above him, and as she spoke - of the three things his answer had granted him, as far as she was concerned - she leant down. And threatened him. The words were quiet, almost inaudible, but Octavien still heard them loud and clear. Though had it not been for the gravity in her eyes, and the way she imposed herself on him, he most likely wouldn't have taken her seriously. It would be most foolish for anyone to threaten him, especially now, considering the circumstances, and he hadn't known Baroness Flight to be a foolish woman. Until her concern and loyalty towards Isabella made her one.

Yet, despite the threat, which made his temper instantly flare, he couldn't help but to smirk inwardly. So... Posing no danger to him one minute, and then threatening to kill him the next? She made herself into quite a walking contradiction. Even more so when she finished her minor monologue, and scooped up his hand to plant upon it a kiss - the proper sign of respect one would've expected her to have given already when she walked into the room - after being familiar to the point of blatant rudeness by addressing him by his first name. Among other things.

Then she stood back, apparently having said her peace, and as she started making her way out of the room, she added yet another ingredient to the mix; calm and almost chilling courtesy, in the form of a statement that, under the circumstances, sounded rather bland and deatched.

It all just managed to leave Octavien with the feeling of having been thoroughly toyed with, and forced into submission. And he did not like it. Her choice of positioning herself right infront of him and bending down to look him straight in the eye, had prevented him from rising from his seat himself and show the proper authority. Had he been one bit less of a gentleman, he would've stood anyway, even if it meant pushing her away. But he was a firm believer of treating a lady like a lady, even if she herself did not act like one.

However, he was not about to leave her thinking he tolerated a behaviour such as hers. He would not have accepted it as a Comte, he would not have accepted it as a Baron, or even an untitled, and he sure would not accept it as a Prince. He had been nothing but cordial and kind to her, but now, all he had to offer her was the same neutral courtesy she had just shown him, sprinkled with unveiled apprehension, as she had made it quite clear that even though they were both on Isabella's side, Mercy was not on his.

"I can understand your concern for her," he said as she waltzed out the doors. "I can even appreciate it. And so I shall take it as nothing more, and nothing less than just that. But be advised, it was the last time you spoke to me in such a manner. I do not take kindly to being threatened, no matter what the reason. And I assure you, Baroness, that whatever I choose to do in the future, it will be a choice made by my own heart, and not in fear of you, as I would rather be sincere with the target of your concern, rather than insult and betray her by playing games."



(((ooc: Because I was bored the other night, I made a little semi-crappy site for this RP, for those of you who may wish to share your characters, like me and Shenanigans. All you have to do it PM me, and we'll work out how to go about it. But anyway, if you're interested, you'll find the site here (http://www.crimson-tale.com/VipersNest/) )))

[Fayreview]

Mercy clicked her teeth, as she disappeared from the Prince's little domain, so like a man, always having the last word. She herself was not best known for her subtlties, but she did wonder why people insisted on screwing up her dramatic exits. Well that was her most pressing concern dealt with and it was a secret she could not see herslef bringing up with another sole, unless it was in the most dire of circumstances.

She had been quite paradoxical in her talking however she had most certainly not contradicted herself, she had let him know as long as he remained a gentleman he had nothing to fear, but was he to be anything less then she would be a significant threat.

Sadly Mercy also realised whilst they both held power, they were both powerless to use it, Isabella was the reason they had for any dark feelings but also their reason for not proceeding. Mercy refused to pass on anything which could harm the young woman. And Atropa's only claim to power, she now knew, was through the Queen, a power he was unlikely to use against an untouchable such as Mercy. It was a stalemate, that would exist as long as they both cared for the same woman in deed if the stalemate was ever broken the loyalties of which ever party would remove the dark shadow which now lay over the relationship between her and the Prince.

With her own safety permanently assured, Mercy could rest easily, she knew that whilst Octavien had claimed he would not be swayed by thoughts of her, she knew he would now think of her much more often, and as a very different person. She was inside his head and had no intention of leaving, afterall men had done all the damage they evr would to Baroness Mercy Flight, be it the ambassador, her son-in-law or any of the other numerous chauvanistic males she had encountered in her life.

((I always feel like such a bitch putting together Mercy's thought's, she has dellussions of grandeur and what does that say about yours truely? So i personally would like to apologise to Atropa for RPing such a... well... bitch!))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Fayreview - Uhmmm.... MY only claim to power? :blink: :blink: *points at 'And Atropa's only claim to power, she now knew....'
;)
And no worries. The characters are not us, so there's no reason to take anything personally. Too bad she had to piss him off though. They could've been such good friends! *lol*)))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Just a quick apology if it seems I’m not around and it takes longer than usual for my replies. I’ve been very, very busy, and will continue to be for the next couple of days. But I still get on at night to hopefully reply to things… hmm… what should I start with.

I have to say Fay, that Mercy sure did surprise me. Quite interesting indeed! I hope Isabella never finds out. lol Only because I don’t know what she’ll do!

Seiza, your RP is just fine. We’ll have to see what Isabella thinks of it all. :)

Also for anyone who’s wondering. I didn’t yell at Fayreview for having Mercy know something no one should know about (Isabella and Octavien’s relationship) because this was the result of the first time our new scandal database was implimented. What Mercy knows is not public knowledge; it’s thanks to the new database. Not even the queen is safe with it around!

Glad to see you back funheart!

Oh… and I do hope to see some courtiers on Atropa’s website. Just think, you could download Isabella and get even for everything she’s ever done to your character. :handbag:

Okay, I think that’s it. On to my rp. ))



As they descended the stairs Isabella continued the polite idle chatter that she herself abhorred only because playing hostess on the most grandeur of scales was a part of the territory. She knew that if one was to enjoy the benefits of their place and title, one must also put up with the unpleasantries. So she continued despite the fact that Duc d’Lorraine’s aid was obviously staring at her. Granted, she had become used to people’s stares and glances. It was part of being the queen, plain and simple. But this Rukov seemed to stare with different eyes. If she had doubted the ability of her guards, or the decency of the Duc she would have been uncomfortable. No, the man wasn’t a threat, perhaps just a different type of admirer.

As if Dimitri had heard her thoughts in the most audible of manners, he soon reassured her. “I apologize if Rukov disturbs you, Your Majesty. He comes from a remote village in Russia, and the only women he has been exposed to have been dark-haired and rough-spoken. Clearly, he finds you extraordinary in comparison. But he is simple, honest and will do you no harm.”

Isabella simply continued her smile. In a most calm reassuring tone she spoke, “Perhaps we should find a portrait of mine for your poor aid to survey?” It had been her attempt to make light of the situation. “I assure you Duc, that he is not the first to lose his train of thought at the sight of me. I suppose this is quite an adventure for him. He must be very grateful for you to allow him to travel and see new worlds.”

As they walked along the East wing Isabella pointed out suites and paintings. Recalling historical facts that she had burned into her memory; it was almost as if it were second nature to her. It had gone rather uneventful until they entered the throne room. Isabella loved to just exist in the grandeur of that room, simply basking in the brilliance of it all and thought it was really rather underused. It is such a pity that Edouard was not fond of it. “I must say, I was quite surprised that the Comte d’Cognac received such an honor.”, the Duc began to speak. Immediately his words did not sit well with Isabella. They were words of challenge disguised in polite cordiality. She only knew them so well for she had uttered such words many times. Rather than interrupt the man to dispel his need of bewilderment she allowed him to continue, “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of his family for as long as I can remember – if not for their infamous sons, I suppose I wouldn’t have heard of them at all.”

As he turned to look towards her she stood her ground, not shying away from his gaze. In many ways it was as if she were looking in a mirror. Quite an absurd statement given the many years difference between the two of them, never mind the obvious differences in gender. While he boldly allowed his war scars to sit prominently on his face, not needing to cover them, Isabella had many scars of her own. Only it was not acceptable for her to allow hers to show. She was expected to keep them buried beneath masks of beauty, grace and elegance.

As their glances briefly sat upon each other, Isabella much felt as if she were a token on a chess board. Not only had their bodies entered a new room, his words ushered them into a game. A game of strategy and wit that Isabella had quite happily become an expert at. However she knew she could not underestimate this man, this new opponent. Previously she had played against mere novices. The Duc of Mollier was far too cocky for his own good, Duchess Marie far too wrapped up in the past. Each of them had been quite delusional as to the power they thought they wielded, it was easy to reveal just how little might they actually had.

However Duc d’Lorraine, he held no such delusions, this Isabella was certain of. Even if he had not realized the true nature of his words, if it had been unintentional, she was certain it was an unawareness that would be short lived. The only advantage Isabella possibly had, was that this was her home, familiar territory. It is far easier to defend than it is to assault. Something she knew the Duc was well aware of.

Instead of defensive words, or throwing accusations of her own, she simply smiled and began to slowly walk towards the royal thrones, particularly the seat that belonged to her. “Duc, you are a wise man, of that I have no doubt. I ask you to please, allow a simple woman to amuse herself with an analogy of sorts.”

Having reached the bottom stair of the platform that the thrones were on, she turned to face him again, looking for his acceptance. “I ask you to consider the diamond. By far it is one of the most brilliant of gems, most would state that it’s purity and beauty is unmatched by any of its peers. Such a glorious thing is not found by simply wandering eyes. Quite contrarily, men spend much energy, risking all they have in search of it. They believe that once they achieve their goal, once they have that precious gem in their hands, all their efforts will be rewarded. Even if they have to dirty their hands, the end result makes up for the means of accomplishing it.”

Isabella turned once again, to begin ascending the stairs to the thrones. “I am much like those men who will do anything for their diamond. This very kingdom is my gem, however I've no need to search for it. I simply must protect it.” Having had reached the throne, she now turned to sit upon it. “Even if I must dirty my hands.”, she continued as she lowered her body slowly and gracefully to sit upon her throne. Now she sat on the lavish velvet seat, her body erect and her head held high. “For some decisions that appear to have no rhyme or reason to many, are actually quite profound, and very deliberate and deserving. It is true Duc d’Cognac does not have a reputation any person with an ounce of sense would admire, but that is largely because the good deeds he has done do not reach any ears or eyes but mine.”

Isabella looked towards Dimitri, studying him. She wondered if he would enquire of her what Felix had done that deserved such a promotion. She had said her piece, and she had no quarrels with continuing if he asked politely for more information. She wondered if he realized just how detached from things Edouard really was. Would he see that she knew the court and all those who called it home far better than many thought? And if he did see that would he appreciate it? Or would he insist on seeing her as what she herself had identified herself as, merely a simple woman?

Her move had been made, now it was his turn.

[Fayreview]

((Yup Atropa, Mercy was convinced *you* were a pointless figure head, until your little secret came out. And she did quite like Octavien, she's just not so sure anymore. Remember Mercy is watching ;) you never know you may just do something later on to get her to apologise - that would be a totally new experience!

And Shenan, maybe that is the cause of my reluctance to hand over my Mercy sim! Or it just may be the lack of cc...

*edit for post below* Actually I decided to make a couple of items for her myself, along with a Helena sim, as though i haven't Mercy into anymore than a bodyshop dummy if i do she'll need Helena around.))

[Seiza]

((We... have DATABASE? :blink: Hardcore, man. Hardcore.

That page is an awesome idea, Atropa. As for sharing Dimitri, I'm not very good at making sims... But the idea of having a little Baroque courtiers running around my neighbourhood sounds incredibly amusing. XD Hmm... Fayre! I'll share Dimitri if you'll share Mercy! And don't worry about CC, most of us just replace the CC with our own ones anyway :D))
______


When Isabella’s gaze left his, the moment of vicious clarity did not disappear with her—it lingered on, thinning itself as it spread around him, until it was like a curl of hair or smoke, winding itself gently around his senses. He felt his instincts awakening rapidly, his muscles tensing (he clasped his hands behind him); the Queen’s smile was now as sharp as it was sweet.

Dimitri’s eyes followed her as she slid to her throne. She was like the cool slithering snake, like the thundering platoon marching across enemy lines; ringing with awe and power. She was putting on her own display, her own performance. He knew he was at war, he simply wasn’t sure she was the enemy. It would not do to alienate the Queen in such uncertainty, and so he obliged her, and he watched her perform.

“Duc, you are a wise man, of that I have no doubt. I ask you to please, allow a simple woman to amuse herself with an analogy of sorts.” It was not a request. A smile flitted briefly across his face. The Queen, a simple woman? As true as he was just a grumpy old man.

There were many small things he picked up in her words, her tone, gestures. Dimitri filed them all away, to be scrutinised later. Was the diamond the Duc d’Cognac? Could a youngster like him, unknown to the world, befit such a comparison to the hardest, sharpest jewel known to man?

Then it became clear what the diamond was, what the stakes were.

“...Even if I must dirty my hands.” The timing was beautiful. Standing on the platform, Isabella had been looking down at him—but then she lowered herself with deliberate confidence. I do not need to stand to face you. Now she sat before him, she still looked down at him, and he would have to raise his eyes to meet hers. Indeed, such an effect was what such platforms, such throne rooms, were made for.

But Dimitri was a tall man. He lifted his eyes a scant degree.

“...It is true Duc d’Cognac does not have a reputation any person with an ounce of sense would admire, but that is largely because the good deeds he has done do not reach any ears or eyes but mine.”

‘Mine’. So the Duc d’Cognac reported only to the Queen.

There were many things wrong with this, foremost being the authority with which she spoke. One almost forgot there were two thrones on that platform. Dimitri slid his eyes from her youthful, smiling, powerful face to the slightly more ornate, masculine throne beside hers—and he made sure she saw him do so. It was just a small reminder, to the Queen Consort who walked and spoke as King of the land; nothing more.

But something else required his attention.

“Your Majesty has given great thought to the future of our fair country.” He could respect that. Loyalty to country ranked among his highest virtues. “And it is clear to me, that you know this court better than most.”

That was his handicap. It was a wonder Edouard hadn’t considered it. These young nobles, their behaviour, their... ‘ethics’ and concerns were alien to him. They were a product of peace, Isabella’s generation. Dimitri knew himself the loser when it came to this, so he swiftly acquiesced this battle. “I am confident your decision to promote the Duc d’Cognac was not made in shallow haste, but for the good of the country.”

Dimitri did not lie. Generally. He did not think he was lying now. Isabella had truly impressed him with her devotion to their country, but he did not know if they were both acting at this point. Her eyes were on him, and now he realised what that discomfort in Isabella's Salon had been: she wasn't only watching him, she was watching him. The contest, whatever it was, had begun even then.

He bowed, breaking eye contact; it was low enough to show respect, but high enough not to be mistaken for unquestionable deference. “It is not my place to ask Your Majesty to explain her reasons. But I ask you to please, allow an old man to indulge in the habit of advising the young: the position of Advisor may be best for someone whose achievements are known to many. What, may I ask, are the Duc d’Cognac’s good deeds that would fulfil such qualifications?”

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: I love it! I say Isabella floated gracefully, you say she slithered. lol Such a difference the point of view can make. ))

Isabella sat confidently upon her throne waiting for Dimitri to make his move. Would it be a rebuttal, or an acknowledgment? Was he going for a checkmate, or was he simply playing for pleasure? His move began with a simple glance. His eyes smoothly slid from her frame to take in the seat beside her. It was a beautiful metaphorical picture. Perhaps he had meant it to be a reminder that she did not rule alone, as there were two chairs. Perhaps he simply was acknowledging that the seat beside her was empty. Void of the authority it was made to hold. Yes indeed, Edouard was absent from most everything when it came to his kingdom. For heaven’s sake he enjoyed his Salon more than his throne room. The very room in the palace that overflowed with imagery of might and power. Isabella may not have the highest chair in the land, but it was she that ruled the kingdom despite the fact.

“Your Majesty has given great thought to the future of our fair country.” Dimitri’s words began after his gaze returned to her. His words soothed her a little. So many times Isabella found herself dealing with buffoons. It was nice to finally play this game with someone who was not so stupid as to declare themselves a winner when they were not. There was much to respect in a man who could put his pompous pride aside long enough to admit that his opponent did have a point. He soon bowed, as to physically acknowledge that fact. However when he straightened his body back to its upright position she thought it was with new determination. Exactly what for she was not certain.

“It is not my place to ask Your Majesty to explain her reasons.” He began by acknowledging she did in fact out rank him, though not admitting that equaled in power or might. “But I ask you to please, allow an old man to indulge in the habit of advising the young…” a small spark of amusement flashed briefly in her eyes as he practically used her own words. “What, may I ask, are the Duc d’Cognac’s good deeds that would fulfill such qualifications?”

Now one of her prior questions was answered, indeed he would enquire why Felix was promoted. Isabella honored the fact. It was proof that he took his new duty seriously. If he was to make suggestions to Edouard on the best route to go in choosing an advisor, he would need to be informed. As she began to speak, Isabella stood, descending the stairs of the platform. “You know as well as I that I am by no means required to answer to you. However, we both know what is really on the line here. My husband admires you, rightly so, and has asked you to mentor him once again, like you did in the past. I do so adore my husband, there is no doubt of that, however I am not so undiscerning as to allow his admirable traits blind me from seeing the areas of which he lacks.”

As she reached the floor once again, she roamed the northern section of the room, coming to stand before the painting of Edouard in his most royal of clothes and stature. “While he has good intentions, he has deliberately detached himself from those who serve him, even from his own family. The reason he has such difficulty in choosing an advisor is simply because he does not know those who he has to choose from.” While she remained standing in front of the painting, her gaze now returned to Dimitri. “That is why I am glad he has asked you to stay, to help him. While I may have the knowledge of our mighty kingdom, you have something I do not. The wisdom that comes with age. Experiences lived, and knowledge gained. I do not belittle the great position my husband has raised you to, and I do wish to be of any service to you that I possibly can.”

Being quite satisfied with letting him know her position, she began to walk towards him, finally answering his original question. “The princess is gravely ill, of that everyone knows. However only three souls, now you shall be the fourth, know the cause of her illness. Rest assured it is quite safe to be in her presence, as she does not have a catchable disease of some sort. No the sad reality is that the Princess was poisoned.” She paused briefly, both to show proper respect for the girl, but also to allow time for the shock of her words to dissipate.

“It seems that though the beautiful girl does not share her looks with her father, she does share his lack of getting to know those who serve her. While in town, Duc d’Cognac overheard some shady dealings and decided to investigate; he came back as soon as he had heard the whole plot. Unfortunately traveling delays made him too late to foil the plans. Still, despite that failure, he reported to me what he knew. The man should be, while we speak, finding the traitor in the palace that has done such a thing.”

Her voice was low and solemn. The very thought of a traitor among them bothered her despite the fact she did not doubt her own safety. Adalita’s downfall was the product of her own actions, they would not wish to harm Isabella. Besides, she had made enough enemies of her own, she had no need to worry of Adalita’s.

((OOC: Seiza, if Dimitri doesn't have more questions or further manners, feel free to move them to the west wing. I think it's obvious enough she wouldn't talk about such matters in the halls where others would be listening, so if he has further to dig, they can stay there. :) ))

[Seiza]

(( :lol: The power of adjectives!

I think you can tell what Dimitri's next question will be-- after Isabella deigns to answer (or not ;) ), feel free to end the tour.))
______


“While he has good intentions, he has deliberately detached himself from those who serve him, even from his own family...” Isabella spoke from beside the King's portrait. The significance of the position was not lost on him, but Dimitri was entertaining another quandary. He always assumed that all was right in the royal family. Edouard’s letters to him had only spoken of pleasant things (though, upon reflection, they had spoken of fencing more than anything). But for the Queen to be able to speak as she did, with such analytic detachment herself... it was not a tone adoring wives used for their lords—at least, not in public.

Dimitri watched her with new eyes. Yesterday, she had presented herself as a most humble wife. Could today’s Isabella be removing part of that mask for him? Perhaps...

“I do not belittle the great position my husband has raised you to, and I do wish to be of any service to you that I possibly can.”

...Ah.

She was acknowledging his strengths, as he had hers. But she was also proposing a pact, willingly revealing some small slice of how she truly thought in the process. Edouard probably expected them to work together from the beginning. But the Duc—and, apparently, the Queen—had no such illusions. It would be too convenient, suspicious even, for their aims to line up so perfectly. This scene they were playing out now seemed just a bit more authentic: the vocal acknowledgement to help each other, instead of the silent assumption that they would.

Dimitri inclined his head in agreement. She had said many things—about their country, and even about their King—for him to believe they were on the same side. For now.

Now that this was sealed, Isabella answered his question. “The princess is gravely ill, of that everyone knows. However only three souls, now you shall be the fourth, know the cause of her illness...”

He listened in growing outrage. Adalita—poisoned?! Who would dare...! ...No, what was he thinking? Of course there were plenty who dared, and many more with the motivation to try. How could they be so careless! The King, the Queen, Mollier, the palace guards—did they think that just because she was not a prince, Adalita was free of such danger?

Dimitri slowly unlaced his palms from behind his back, settling them by his side. He flexed his fingers—once, twice—fingers that already wanted to rip the head from the traitorous dog responsible.

That was his only reaction.

“And the Duc d’Cognac was the first to know this? Then I owe him my gratitude, as well as an apology for doubting his capabilities.” His voice was cool. “Where did he hear of thi—”

Giggles.

Dimitri had to bite his tongue, or he would have roared at the maids who entered, whispering over their feather dusters. He even managed to withhold the full force of his glower. But it didn’t matter—when they realised they had interrupted their Queen and her guest, the two girls went white as snow. Then they remembered themselves, and fell into clumsy curtseys. “Y-Your Majesty! Oh, forgive us, we did not know...”

“The daily cleaning, I presume?” the Duc muttered, to which the Queen nodded. He stewed silently while she dealt with them, but the moment was already lost—there was little chance they would continue talking about this, knowing more servants would be milling about at this time than before. Such information was very sensitive, and servants had sponge-like ears not hindered by mundane obstacles such as walls or hearing limits.

While the girls cleaned the vases, their feather dusters quivering in their hands, Isabella turned to him. “We may have dallied here too long, Duc. Was this not supposed to be a tour?”

Yes, the moment was certainly lost.

“Indeed, though I hope we shall continue our conversation some other time.”

They walked casually from the throne room, moving towards the west wing. It astounded him how easily they both fell back into the tour. Although his memory had forgotten that this was the way of the court, his instincts had not—Dimitri would ask some inane question, and Isabella would answer him with some informative snippet, and it looked so very authentic.

As they walked towards the west wing, they passed a well-hidden stairs leading down. The Duc looked at it meaningfully. Did this not lead to the servant’s quarters? And... dungeon? The significance of Adalita's sickness and the attack on the Prince was not lost on him. It was, in fact, so obvious, he just had to turn to the Queen, the question in his eyes.

[Shenanigans_SC]

It is now afternoon.

[Shenanigans_SC]

Isabella looked upon Dimitri with expectant eyes. She wondered how he would take the news of Adalita’s illness. His reaction, or lack thereof, both surprised her and yet was completely expected. Soon their talk was suddenly interrupted by servant girls entering the room to clean.

“Indeed, though I hope we shall continue our conversation some other time.” Isabella nodded her head in silent agreement to the Duc’s words. Indeed. She hoped they would have many more meetings. Which reminded her of her own meeting she was to have with Baroness Flight this afternoon over lunch.

As they were just about done with the tour they passed a nearly concealed stairway. Dimitri looked towards Isabella, the question written on his face. “Those descend to the lowest floor of the Palace. Given it is most improper for me to step one foot down there, I do not know it well.” She smiled with light humor. “I doubt you should need to visit the kitchen or the dungeon. You are not a servant, and you are not that type of guest.”

Once the tour was completed they ascended the stairs together. Upon reaching the top landing she excused herself politely explaining she had a lunch date to prepare for.

((OOC: Seiza, I am really, really, really sorry for the sudden demotion of quality. I've had a really crappy day and I just can't get into it right now. Given both our characters have lunch dates, I didn't want to prolong it any longer.

Fayreview, whenever you're ready, you can send Mercy up to Isabella's Salon. After a good night's sleep I should be back to my old self. :) ))

[Fayreview]

((I had an urge to hear chimes here, but didn't specify from where as whilst I'd love to have a clock tower in the grounds i don't wanna make waves and they could easily be from the surrounding area :)))

Mercy was sat in her bedroom, the heavy velvet curtains covered 4 of the rooms 5 ceiling height windows, giving the room a feeling of trapped heat and darkness, she was not sure if she could face the Queen knowing what she had just done. she could of course send a note claiming some illness to get her out of lunch but with Adalita and Octaviens problems, even the small amount of worry Mercy herself could provide for the great young woman was more than she could bear to do, no she would of course go, and as there was no time like the present she raised herself and exited the room.

Still dressed in slate grey and flat shoes, she walked slowly to the chambers, drawing out the inevitable point at which she would meet the queen and be forced to either confess or fake ease whilst providing the necessary levels of gentle politeness. Naturally by the time she reached the chamber she had her mind set upon which option to take, she bowed her way into the queens chamber after being told to enter and waited to be acknowledged before looking up. She wondered if there was something particular on the Queen's mind or if this was just a social invitation, Mercy would not normally mind either way but today she hoped the queen needed something. Just so as to take her mind off what she had done. For whilst mercy did have the best of intentions people rarely liked having someone meddle in their affairs, which in this case was quite literally the phrase.

((No Shenan that is BAD post!))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Fay... your whole "meddle in affairs" thing had me cracking up.))

After leaving Duc d’Lorraine’s side, Isabella stopped in her suite for the servants to see to the unending task of touching up her appearance and for some quiet time to reflect on the morning’s events. Her meeting with Dimitri had at least included the opportunity for her to state, clearly or not, that Edouard was indeed not the royal ruler so many saw him to be.

Isabella was satisfied that she seemed to have done it without stepping overly out of line. Still she did not have the calm assurance that she and Dimitri were two entities headed in the same direction. However, she did not feel as if they were destined to collide either. She knew that time would have to reveal Duc d’Lorraine’s stances on things. She would have to wait patiently. There’s just no way around it.

Once having realized she would once again wait on the revelation that only time would bring, her mind switched from her morning to her afternoon. Once again she was to have lunch with Baroness Flight. Their lunches together had pretty much become habit. Before Duc d’Cognac’s sudden reappearance she had quite fondly thought of slowly testing the woman’s faithfulness. She had indeed far outdone herself and proved to be an essential ally with the matter of Adalita’s intended marriage to Silvius. In fact if it weren’t for the woman, he would have become prince, instead of Octavien.

Soon Isabella made her way to her Salon, the ever familiar room. It was good that Isabella was quite fond of the décor as she did spend a lot of time in there. Once again looking out the window Isabella longed for spring. She longed to feel the sun upon her skin, bringing warmth to her body. She dreamed of days outside of the walls of the palace. If she could not get out of the Kingdom for some new scenery, at least being outdoors would be the next best thing.

Soon Isabella’s thoughts were interrupted by the Baroness’ entrance. She turned towards the woman who was in her usually low bow. “Baroness Flight,” Isabella began walking towards her, “thank you for joining me once again.”

After their greetings had been exchanged they took their familiar spots at the table that the servants had adorned for their lunch. “I do believe I haven’t properly thanked you for the beautiful gift you had sent. You really have outdone yourself.” Isabella began with cordial small talk. Soon she moved on to another matter. “I am most curious as to attain your thoughts on the introduction Edouard made this morning, during the announcements. What is the word about the palace of the King’s old friend, Duc d’Lorraine?”

[Fayreview]

It didn't take Mercy long to connect the new name with her new aquaintance, she took a split second to curse herself for not paying more attention at the announcements but was quick with an answer, "very polite and suprisingly well mannered for a man who assaulted a Baroness with a carriage," she gave a half smile. Duc d'Lorraine? Would he still be happy being called Dimitri-Josephe? And more to the point had he found Baroness Venn? Well she would know soon enough.

"But before we have any discussion about either the Duc or myself i must ask about your family, the Prince and Princess both taken down in such awful ways and yourself and our dear King how are you coping with the news?" She did not wish to discuss Dimitri afterall if she did the queen would think she was not doing her job knowing little more than the fact he was handsome and courtious. On top of that she actually was worried for the young woman and whilst Mercy fought not to show discomfort at mentioning the Prince the emotions the woman before her must be hiding upset Mercy also.

((Ok Sorry for that post Shenan but I should be better after a goodnights sleep and will pop on after my driving lesson tomorrow morning!))

[Seiza]

((lols, Shenan, no worries, the post is fine! The past few days have been pretty packed on my side too, and it doesn't look to be lightening up anytime soon @_@ ))
______


When Dimitri entered his suite, Rukov could immediately sense all was not right with his master. Agitation rimmed his eyes, minutely drawing down the corners of his mouth. But if the Duc had any intention of discussing the matter, he could not—the luncheon with the Prince awaited him.

Rukov himself was asked to tend to his master. In such privacy, Dimitri could allow himself the luxury of wandering deep into his mind, losing himself in silent thoughts. He was not very talkative by nature, yet he had such an unnerving air about him now that even the silence tasted wrong. If it weren't completely impossible, the Duc even seemed to be unaware of his surroundings.

This didn’t happen very often. Rukov decided he would not try his luck with entering the upper floors a third time.

After a ribbon had been expertly retied and cravat resettled, the Duc finally spoke. “You haven’t really had a look around the palace, have you?” Rukov waited. “The west wing is quite interesting.”

The men left the suite, heading in opposite directions.

***

The Duc d’Lorraine arrived at Prince Octavien’s suite promptly, alone, and calm as a mountain. This morning’s revelation was nothing short of momentous, but he was disciplined enough to put Adalita’s condition out of his mind. Like an errant file, an extra handkerchief—his anxiety had been folded and neatly put away.

He had been prepared to wait, yet to his great surprise and pleasure, the guard recognised him immediately and readily admitted him into the Prince’s suite. Dimitri was a fervent supporter of such punctuality and organisation.

He entered to find Prince Octavien standing by the window, much like the Queen had been this morning, and he himself had done before sunrise. It was a curious image of three guarded faces looking out of glass prisons, rimmed in marble and metal—but Dimitri did not have enough poetry in his soul to really appreciate it. He was, instead, doing what he did better: observing and taking notes.

Despite being attacked yesterday, the Prince was standing quite straight. Dimitri knew enough of such men to not take it as a sign that he was fully healed. He had been such once, just as proud and just as confident of his body’s magical ability to heal.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” the older man bowed. “Let me start by expressing my congratulations to you on your wedding to the Princess, and my sympathies for everything else.”

It seemed mildly gruesome that he had more things to express his sympathies for; the wedding seemed the only good thing to have opened the new year, and even that had its share of problems.

“Let us hope this lunch will be a more pleasant experience for you,” Dimitri continued. He did not smile, but his eyes crinkled slightly, in compassion and support and... well... Not royalty for a month, and already the Prince had to suffer a sickly wife and a near-assassination. It was all humourous in a way possibly only the Duc could find it.

[Shenanigans_SC]

“Very polite and surprisingly well mannered for a man who assaulted a Baroness with a carriage.” Mercy’s answer to her question caught Isabella slightly off guard. She had received word that Mercy had the most unfortunate of accidents, however she did not know that Duc d’Lorraine was the cause of it.

Before she could question Mercy about it however, she soon moved on to another topic. “But before we have any discussion about either the Duc or myself, I must ask about your family. The Prince and Princess both taken down in such awful ways and yourself and our dear King, how are you coping with the news?”

Isabella sat thoughtfully, allowing her graceful smile to disappear from her features. She would give signs to Mercy that she was being sincere and genuine, lowering her guard of royal mannerisims and offering glances of the true Isabella. “Mmm…. Yes. No doubt you’ve noticed the extra guards on duty." Isabella exhaled slightly, "Indeed the Prince is badly injured, however it’s the Princess that concerns me.” Isabella’s voice was now low and clouded. “Though in the public eye the King and I grasp on to hope, I do not believe the young girl will make it through the night. I mourn the unborn heir already.” Isabella’s words had been truthful, despite holding back the entirety of her knowledge. Not many people knew of the Princess’ pregnancy, it saddened her that very few would mourn the life that had not yet even begun.

((OOC: Isabella wants to put the topic back on Mercy being ran over by Dimitri. But I thought I’d give you the opportunity to take it wherever Mercy was headed.))

[Fayreview]

((Oh i wasn't taking it anywhere I was just doing what was polite! afterall it would be awful of Mercy to ignore the terrible goings on, and frightfully rude. so back to the Duc we go :)))

"I do understand where you are coming from, but with me it is a grandchild I will never see, at least mine will be alive and happy. Do take some solace in the fact the baby cannot suffer, and the Princess is a resiliant young woman, she will fight it if she can." Mercy knew where the Queen was coming from, a dark place she had lost hope and being partial to more of the facts than Mercy herself was she would just have to accept the words of the woman before her that the Princess would not pull through and yet attempt to comfort her anyway. She moved on from the Prince quickly, she was perhaps too upset to discuss it or perhaps, just perhaps she had spoken to the young gentleman in the time since Mercy had left his chambers. No, the Queen, was being as warm as she had always been to Mercy in recent times, she was not aware that Mercy was one of her secretkeepers yet. she leant forward as a sign of wishing to comfort the younger woman.


She looked inside herself seeking her own advise dare she bring up her new knowledge? Perhaps one day. But not on one when the Queen was so sad... wait perhaps it was actually a day like this needed someone to talk to? But why should that be Mercy? She had the young gentleman. Who Mercy did trust cared for the young woman, even if she was not sure as of yet just how much. Mercy continued to smile gently at her, she knew not what to do, but for now that did not matter.

[Shenanigans_SC]

“I do understand where you are coming from, but with me it is a grandchild I will never see, at least mine will be alive and happy. Do take some solace in the fact the baby cannot suffer, and the Princess is a resilient young woman, she will fight it if she can.” Isabella was confident that Mercy’s words had been sincere, in an attempt to give Isabella a bit of hope for the Princess. Isabella’s eyes thanked Mercy for the attempt, however she had given up such hope. Sad to say, but it was the truth, one she had to face grimly.

“You speak with such wisdom, I hope you do not dismiss my words as simple flattery, as they most certainly are not.” Isabella’s gaze sat contently upon the woman. “I feel as if I could learn a great deal from you, and the lessons your life has taught you, no doubt some more painful to learn than others.” At this point Isabella was not a queen speaking to a baroness. Quite contrarily she was a younger woman speaking to another, another who had seen the good, the bad, and the uncivilized. Her voice lightened as she slightly avoided the awkwardness a moment such as that could bring. “Your cheek is healing quite nicely.”, she offered. “I do say, you’ve held up quite well despite an assault with a carriage.”

((OOC: Short... but... conversation pieces usually are.))

[AtropaMandragora]

With Baroness Flight out of the room, Octavien gave a brusque and annoyed wave with his hand, for the young servant girl to remove the completely untouched tea tray, while he himself paced over to the window. Stopping infront of the one he had decided offered the best view, he clasped his hands firmly behind his back, and let his eyes roam over the beautiful gardens and forest stretching out in the north. But he didn't see it. His thoughts were elsewhere already. The vinegar that had been simmering in his blood during the last couple of days, had by Mercy's stunt just been brought to a violent boil. He was growing bitter. Only a few months in this court, and he had already had his cordiality and his good intentions stepped on, several times over. He had made an effort to be kind and courteous to everyone that had given him no reason to be anything less, and what had it gotten him? Disrespect, embarrassment, rejection, and now threats. He had married Adalita out of the love for his country and loyalty to the crown, to save her from suffering the humiliation of being dishonored. All he had asked was that she would be discreet, and he had hoped for them to at least be friends. But instead, she had been the exact opposite, with little concern for how her actions effected the man that had tried to protect her, and she had put him into a most embarrassing situation.
She, and Duc Peitou-Charentes, whom Octavien had offered a perfect way of having an affair with Adalita, Octavien's wife, without rousing suspicion. What had he gotten in return? Accusations of having ruined the man's life. A man that while he claimed to so love Adalita, hadn't been up to see her even once. Despite her serious illness, and despite having been offered a way directly into her suite, past the guards that kept everyone but the royal family and their physician out. So much for that man's so-called love. Apparently, it was wasn't worth even the breaths he had used to proclaim it.

Further more, Octavien had tried to form a friendship with Baroness Taylor also. He had opened up to her more than he had to anyone - except, of course, Isabella - he had confided in her. And all she had done was to distance herself from him, making it evident that he put far more trust in her, than she did in him.
And then there was Baroness Flight... Octavien had always remained respectful and kind towards her, appreciating her qualities rather than judging her based on what others had to say about her. He had even tried his best to save her the embarrassment when she had knocked over a small table, and caused a beautiful vase to shatter on the hard marble floor.
All for nothing.
Yes. The young Prince was growing bitter indeed.

How long he stood there, staring off into nothingness, he didn't know, but he was awakened by the voice of Gilles, announcing to him that Duc d’Lorraine had arrived for their luncheon. Barely turning his head, Octavien gave him a sign to let the man in, and only once he heard footsteps unfamiliar to his ears did he turn. The Duc had entered, and as Octavien turned to face him, his guest gave a bow that, while it was a sign of proper respect of a loyal subject, showed very little of the submission common among the two-faced courtiers.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," the Duc said. "Let me start by expressing my congratulations to you on your wedding to the Princess, and my sympathies for everything else."

As he straightened his back once again, Octavien studied him, making it no secret that he was assessing him, and forming his first impression. The man before him was as dark as Octavien himself was fair; long but very neatly trimmed charcoal tresses, versus his own golden sunshine. Eyes like dark steel, versus Octavien's piercing sapphires. And skin marred and toughened by time, weather and battle, versus Octavien's pale and flawless complexion brought by his youth.
Though despite the striking differences, to anyone that bothered to look closer, there were similarities as well. They both carried themselves with pride; back straight and head held high. And it was evident in both of them that behind their eyes, their minds were hard at work, registering details, analyzing glances and behaviour, constantly evaluating and re-evaluating what they saw.
To Octavien, it was what would most properly be described as a sight for sore eyes. Among the many snakes in court, there now appeared a lion.

"Let us hope this lunch will be a more pleasant experience for you," the man continued, as Octavien acknowledged his greeting by inclining his head ever so slightly, allowing the faintest of polite smiles to grace his lips.

"Thank you, Duc d'Lorraine", he replied as he started walking over to the table that had apparently been prepared for this lunch while he had been deep in thought. "I'm sure it will. Frankly, I've been looking forward to it, as our honored King seems to hold you in high esteem, which, I'm afraid, can not be said about many in this court."

He motioned gently towards the chair opposite of the one by which he himself was standing.

"Please, have a seat", he said, and then sat down himself, as no well-mannered courtier would dream of being the first to sit while in the presence of royalty. "What, if I may ask, do we have to thank for the pleasure of your presence at our grand Palace?"



(((ooc: Seiza - Sorry, I know you gave me the tools to continue, but my eyes a literally falling shut, and I just wanted to give you something to reply to before I stumble off to bed. *s*)))

[Seiza]

((All the snake imagery is awesomely amusing. XD

And hush, you two! Even your "short" pieces are great posts, so no worries about the quality :P

I was also curious about something-- how are we gonna handle changing seasons? Are we gonna RP all two/three months of winter, have a time jump at some point, or just quietly make the transition to spring in a few RP days a la Sims 2 Seasons? XD))
______


Dimitri did not fidget under the Prince’s open assessment. That was no matter. It gave him his own chance to observe the newest addition to the royal family.

Octavien was young. He had to be several decades Dimitri’s junior. Now, there was no reason for such an observation to surprise him, as Adalita was not even twenty. But he had reasoned that her marriage to Duc Peitou-Charentes was cancelled in favour of a more strategic alliance, with a prince from Denmark or some such thing—and such marriages tended to have wide age gaps.

The Duc had also been hoping that a glimpse of the new Prince would jog his memory of who he was. So many noble families always had some genetic uniqueness—an oddly-angled nose, thicker-than-normal earlobes, et cetera—that marked them part of a particular lineage. The Duc’s family’s own widely known trademarks were their dark complexions and strong noses. But to his great consternation, if Octavien had any such hereditary markings upon him, he could not find it; either there was none, or it was hidden in places the Duc had no business looking at.

“Thank you, Duc d'Lorraine.” The moment for study had ended, and the time for lunch was beginning. “I'm sure it will. Frankly, I've been looking forward to it, as our honored King seems to hold you in high esteem, which, I'm afraid, can not be said about many in this court.”

Dimitri inclined his head silently—Octavien’s last words intrigued him more, however. He was used to people observing the King’s respect for him, but not many ever followed that compliment by condemning the other courtiers in the same breath. Or was he misunderstanding, and he was instead saying that the court did not hold Dimitri in high esteem?

There was also this odd tone about him, extremely subtle, but the Duc knew his senses to be strong as a bloodhound’s... Something like bitterness, like frustration...

After the men took their seats, he answered the expected question. “You may thank your wedding, Your Highness, for that was originally what I came to celebrate. I received the invitation early, but was delayed tremendously by the bad weather. I only just arrived yesterday afternoon.”

It seemed wholly wrong to speak of a wedding in such a grave manner, but so he did.

“Either way, it seems I have come at an unfortunate time. I should thank you as well, for granting me this luncheon in the middle of your recovery. You are very gracious to do this, and to let the assassin live.”

It was both a compliment and something of a grumble. The first man who tried something similar with Dimitri had been left, at least, without an arm. But he did not mention this. Octavien was a man, and the Duc ordinarily did not have qualms about discussing such things with men—but the Prince was also young. It could not be assumed he had dropped any more blood than a few mistakes in practice fencing.

“May I inquire how you are doing today? And the Princess as well...” Bringing up Adalita had the unfortunate effect of softening Dimitri’s voice, slightly but still noticeably.

[Fayreview]

Mercy had looked down at the table during the awkward silence, there it was, a sign she did care for what Mercy thought. she bit her lower lip, she wopuld have to come clean wouldn't she? How could she hide her betrayal from the person she was trying to protect. Her train of thought came to a hault, actually that was the purpose of it....

“Your cheek is healing quite nicely I do say, you’ve held up quite well despite an assault with a carriage.” The Queen offered a change of topic back to where they had been moments ago, the cut reminded her of the sign of friendship which Octavien had offered her but unfortunately she could not let that sway her. She herself had taken the blame for things for less than noble reasons. People often felt they owed you things when you did, and whilst Octavien did not seem like the type for such an act that did not necessarily mean he was not. She made a note to talk to people about the young Prince and for the first time cursed her title for seperating her from the 'common man.'

"Assault was not the right word, I spoke in jest. He seems a good man, his driver was tired and managed to knock me down as i crossed the courtyard. He was most apologetic and has asked for the name of my seamstress as to repair the dress which the Duchess d'Borbon Parmer presented me with." Mercy gave a smirk at the mention of Marie.

"As for my supposed wisdom, if there is one thing I should teach you it is the one thing I failed to teach my daughter. If it makes you happy... take the risk. There will always be someone watching out for your best interests." I was subtle but in its own way stated that Mercy was acting as a guardian for the younger woman and despite the fact she had no right to, she cared. Mercy stated this with conviction as even when Mercy could not be around the Queen had Margaret, a woman who Mercy held in great esteem, such a hard job done so elegantly....

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: *lmao* '...places the Duc had no business looking at.' :lol: Too funny!)))

Even as Octavien and his guest sat down together, commencing the kind of polite conversation that was to be expected between two gentlemen, the young Prince kept studying the Duc. While correct respect was something he would offer in any first encounter with someone, few in this court had managed to actually demand it, the way the Duc's presence did. He possessed the kind of authority that drew the sense of respect from those around him, even if they were the kind of younglings that were not inclined to show anything but arrogance. It pleased Octavien to see it, as finally there seemed to be a proper blue-blooded man of honor in court. Although he himself was now royalty, and thought of himself as an honorable man, Octavien could hardly call himself blue-blooded, and far too many of the blue-bloods that were around, could hardly be called men of honor.
Thus, the Duc made for a welcome change.
Though at the same time, Octavien did not forget nor dismiss what Isabella had had to say about him. Especially the part about not knowing if he was friend or foe. If he would turn out to be the latter, it was Octavien's guess - nay, conviction - that the Duc would offer a challenge greater than Adalita, Duc Peitou-Charentes and Marquess Berini had together. In all honesty, Octavien had to wonder why it was that he had not heard of such a prominent man before. The King obviously thought very highly of him, and he did seem like the type of man that would etch himself into the memories of anyone he came across. But then again, Isabella had also said that it had been years since the Duc had left the court. Octavien, on the other hand, had arrived just a few months ago, and prior to that had paid very little attention to tales, rumours and gossip concerning the royal family and the noble families, in or outside of court. Even if he had heard the name, Octavien had never made a point of remembering such things, until after arriving at the court in the Palace of Light and Air.

However, as the nature of the Duc's agenda, if he had one, was still to reveal itself, Octavien would go with his instincts until it did.

"You may thank your wedding, Your Highness," the Duc replied to his question, "for that was originally what I came to celebrate. I received the invitation early, but was delayed tremendously by the bad weather. I only just arrived yesterday afternoon."

Of course, the wedding. Octavien should've known. Or at the least have guessed. With the Duc being such a good friend of the King's, he would've obviously been at the top of the guest list.

"Either way," he continued, "it seems I have come at an unfortunate time. I should thank you as well, for granting me this luncheon in the middle of your recovery. You are very gracious to do this, and to let the assassin live."

Although young, Octavien was intelligent enough to register that such a statement was far more than just the polite compliment it appeared to be on the surface. He knew there were those that were somewhat puzzled by his leniency towards the man behind the "attempted murder", and their whispers filled the hallways as they consulted eachother in their attempts to make sense of it. But no one had asked Octavien himself about it.
Until now, even though the Duc could hardly be accused of being blunt in doing so. In fact, he seemed to leave as a comment that the Prince could choose not to answer if he wanted to, without making his reluctance obvious.

"May I inquire how you are doing today?" the Duc simply and smoothly continued. "And the Princess as well..."

Octavien couldn't help but to notice the faint element of softness that crept into the man's tone, at the mention of Adalita. Not in the way of a concerned subject, but in the way of someone who genuinly cared for the young girl. But again; of course. Isabella had mentioned the closeness between the Duc in the King, although not in so many words, and so it would probably only be safe to assume that the Duc had been around when Adalita was just a child, maybe even when she was first born.

"The Princess...", Octavien started, and his brows furrowed with concern as his thoughts returned to the girl that even though she had angered him greatly, he still cared for. "How I wish I could say there is good hope for her recovery. But if I did, I would be a liar, and a fool. Every bit of news I have been brought has been more discouraging than the last..."

Following that statement, he allowed silence to settle in the room for a few moments, as a way of showing that even though he was about to shift the subject from the Princess, it was only because there really was not much one could say about her condition at this point, that would not be macabre or otherwise improper, and because there were other questions he had yet to answer.

"As for myself...", he said slowly once he continued. "I am quite well, under the circumstances. Though I thank you for your concern, and for your compliment. You are most kind, as I am simply trying to stay humble. I am still trying to settle in without letting my recent good fortune go to my head, and throwing my weight around like some foolish boy drunk with power. Or rather, the illusion thereof."

He was very well aware that the power he did have, as Prince, was limited to rather simple matters, when compared to the powers of the King and Queen. While he could order the beheading of the Marquess, if he so chose, he had no say in the decisions that would greatly effect the world, the kingdom, or even the court.

"I could, of course, have the Marquess pay for his crime in what I assume would be deemed a more suitable way. But I find the idea of an execution somewhat tactless at this time, considering we have more important concerns. Though feel free to correct me me if you think I am wrong? I simply fail to see what good could come from executing a man consumed by petty jealousy, when our beloved Princess is fighting for her life. I feel our thoughts should be with her."



(((ooc: Hope it's coherent. Scatterbrained today. *s*)))

[stylequeen_SC]

Silvius dressed hurriedly, aware that Annelise was waiting outside for him to go riding. He was pleased though, pleased that their relationship as friends was back again, and, even though they hadn't regathered the same relationship they had before...yet, he was still happy for her company

"I'm coming" he laughed as she teased him, and his servant girl adjusted the final smarts of his coat, brushing the white lint from the red riding jacket he loved so much

Finally, Silvius left his room and smiled at Annelise, admiring her dress and the fact that she was going to be riding in it. No mean feat by any standards and he only hoped they would have time together in the woods. It was where they first met none the less

"Ready for an afternoon ride?" he smiled, brushing back his hair and arched his arm for her to take

Silvius grinned and the happy pair made their way out of the Palace arm in arm, certainly not looking like a couple to anyone's eyes, although the smiles on both faces could not be ignored. He gazed down at Annelise, taking in her beauty that seemed to have doubled over her absence, even though before he believed she could not get anymore beautiful already.


[[ sorry for the crappy post. Been having RL troubles and haven't been able to read everything that has happened yet. Just thought I'd get a post out as I don't want to disappoint a friend by not RPing :) ]]

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Seiza, the changing of seasons is something I’ve been thinking about lately as well. Probably because I’m still buried under seemingly unending ice. I want spring worse than Isabella does!! I don’t like time jumps because this RP is so twisted and complex. We can’t just pretend stuff happened for a whole month. I mean, that could encompass a lot of stuff we’d skip. So yeah, it’s going to be very much like the Sim2 game. I expect the seasons to stay similar to what the northern hemisphere of our world experiences. Given we go about two RP days a month, the season’s in the RP are short. Same with things like healing and pregnancies, and such. Think of each RP day as two real life weeks. So when a courtier has been a Duc for four RP days… that’s two real life months. That’s when they’re eligible for the advisor position. I know it’s all kind of confusing. It’s a parallel universe time warp thing. Only we’re not sci-fi… we’re historical. lol Hope I didn’t confuse anyone. I’ll be sure to instigate the changing of weather when the time is right.
Atropa, warn Octavien for me please. Thanks to Dimitri, she now wants to search for a birthmark or something. The Duc may not have business looking in those places, but Isabella is confidant she can get away with it! ;) ))

“Assault was not the right word, I spoke in jest.” Mercy elaborated a bit on what had happened between Duc d’Lorraine’s carriage and herself. Isabella had never thought Dimitri intended to run a woman over, but it was nice to hear the particulars. During their time Isabella had found herself relaxing a bit. This morning’s tour with the Duc had implemented each and every one of her senses. She was constantly watching, analyzing and discerning every little movement, every pitch of his voice. Now that she sat with Mercy, someone whom Isabella felt she did not need to judge the intentions of, she had been able to relax a little.

Having felt she was in a safe environment, Baroness Flight’s next words caused her ears to perk up. “As for my supposed wisdom, if there is one thing I should teach you it is the one thing I failed to teach my daughter. If it makes you happy… take the risk. There will always be someone watching out for your best interests.” If Isabella had been on her guard, she would have showed no sign of the words intriguing her. However, she was not, hence the peculiar look that took its place upon her face. Her brows crunched in the middle ever so slightly, her eyes narrowed just a tad. As if she were trying to comprehend what Mercy had just said.

“If it makes you happy… take the risk.” Was she speaking from the generalization of what could only be assumed about being in her position? Granted it didn’t take much imagination to discern the position of queen was filled with choices, some which were safe, and some which were not. Some that provided happiness and others that took away freedoms. However, the last part of Mercy's statement hit her even harder. “There will always be someone watching out for your best interests.” Was she stating clearly that she had the Queen’s back? Given her position among the courtiers, she was privy to information that Isabella was not. No one would dare speak ill of the Queen in her presence. Yet they would not be so inclined to hold their tongue in the presence of a Baroness, quite possibly a woman with rank inferior to their own.

Isabella’s mind lingered on that possibility. Was she wrong about there being no reason to fear for her life? Had the people who sparked Duc d’Cognac’s curiosity really have her in their sights as well? The whole stream of thoughts unsettled her so.

Isabella smiled slightly, most noticeably not a smile that was intuitive to her. “I do appreciate the few true friendships, such as ours, that I am privileged to have.”, she spoke slowly. Isabella wanted to ask. But did she dare? Would she be so bold as to admit that she was unaware of any such dissention in the ranks? “I do hope it is understood that your presence is always most welcomed here in my Salon. If a matter of urgency was to present itself, you've no need to wait for the lunch hour to present it.”

Isabella had taken the middle road. If there was something Mercy felt needed Isabella’s attention, she had been given the perfect opportunity to state it. If not, she could simply acknowledge the invitation and move on with other matters. Though she had wiped the most unnatural look from her face, her heart waited to be settled.

[Fayreview]

Mercy knew the Queen sensed something and the natural way to quell the fears the woman must be hiding would be to instantly thank her for the invitation, or to laugh, to say something that made what she had just said to the young woman a mere statement of friendship.

Mercy however was not fast enough today she allowed her mouth to fall slightly open, then she gulped and blinked. The Queen had stated she saw her as a true friend and granted a tremendous honour, increased access. She now wanted to know why Mercy had made her comment, dare Mercy tell her why she felt she needed protection?

"Your magesty is too kind, however the gesture is most appreciated. I do wish to suggest that you may wish to be even more careful moving about in the morning it seems rather improper for servants to see you roaming the halls in the wee hours. In deed even the odd courtier has seen you walking past the long windows of the Royal floor corridor." She bit her lip gently and ran her fingers over the base of her water goblet, as she had a habit of doing, how would the Queen respond?

((Sorry I have a grandfather distarcting me, can't wait for him to return back to your neck of the woods Shenan!))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Aww... enjoy your grandpa!))

Isabella’s face had no sooner resumed its beautiful poise before it was shattered by wide eyes. Both at the nature of, and the abruptness of Mercy’s words. She found them extremely hard to swallow indeed. She had been most certainly careful moving about in the morning. Giles and Margret had done their jobs superbly well with making sure the coast was clear before escorting her from the Prince’s room to her own. The whole thing puzzled her so, and brought about a tinge of infuriation. Still, did this mean that the Baroness knew where Isabella had been spending her nights? Was someone hiding behind some statue, spying on her? Or was her guilty conscience getting the better of her. Mercy had made no mention of the Prince’s quarters, she could very well have been moving about in the wee morning after having spent the night in the King’s quarters. But if that were the case, why would the Baroness feel the need to assure Isabella she was looking out for her. The whole thing bewildered the young queen, but one thing she knew, was that this was not the proper time to figure it out.

“Hmm…” she began before taking a quick sip from her glass. “It appears some may have too much time on their hands.” Indeed if someone was spying on her, they certainly should have work that needed to be done. The whole thing unnerved her. “I thank you for your honesty.” She said, adding No matter how blunt. in her mind only.

“How about you,” she wished to move the conversation on, “is there any item you find yourself in need of?”

((OOC: Isabella has no other topics to bring up. Mercy's pretty much rendered her speachless. If Mercy has something to say, she's free to. If not you can wrap up their lunch. Or they can sit there silently since Mercy is waiting on Dimitri to "collect" her, if I recall correctly. ;) ))

[Fayreview]

((Shenan he is driving me and my poor mother and his ex-wife (my grandmother) and the daughter-in-law who has just given birth completely crazy!!! Ah well what are family for?))

Mercy knew she had shocked the Queen and that she would most likely bring this to the attention of Octavien. And any item? she did hope the Queen was not suggesting.... no, that would make next to no sense. "Well i take no joy in hearing daft circulating about good people. And do not worry I have firmly come down upon the source of these particular comments. Afterall it is your castle and your court and servants have no right to complain about your nighttime attire." She smiled, Mercy had decided to gloss it over, say that she had heard about nothing more than clothing, but still causing the Queen reason to take more care, after all if Mercy could find out others could. Hopefully the queen weould be more warey but not worry about Mercy herself or feel the need to bring Mercy's name up with the Young Prince... that could be awkward.

"As for myself, i seek at this moment nothing more than the ear of the man who is to repair my dress." Mercy nodded matter-of-factly and raised bowing low as she backed out of the door. she would wait here for Dimitri, she did not imagine he would be absent for much longer. Duc c'lorraine my my she thought.

((Naturally no one can find out unless told in a RP by Shenan, Atropa or I. And Seiza, I know I polished of lunch a little earlier than you, but when you are finished let us just pretend you did not make her wait very long :P I am perfectly content to read the wonder posts you and Atropa come up with but Mercy wouldn't be too happy.))

[Seiza]

((lol! That's Isabella for you, charting new territories! :P And I think the seasons idea will work fine.

Fayre, aww, thank Mercy for her patience! I'll try not to drag out the boys' lunch too long. Fancy the women finish their yapping faster than the men, though! :lol:

Glad to see Silvius back, stylequeen! Now is there gonna be a brotherly reunion with the new Duc? ;) ))
_____


Dimitri had not meant to bring up Adalita, and silently cursed himself—he was getting soft. Such a slip would have been unheard off before.

But it turned out to be a salvageable slip. He watched the Prince’s smooth brow crinkle in concern; he wondered, suddenly, if Octavien was one of the four who knew of the poison.

At the moment, it was mere curiosity, not worth the act of prying such delicate information out of anyone. Octavien’s words seemed to indicate he did not know, but he could be pretending, just as the Duc was now. Either way, it was a good opportunity to listen to the younger man simply talk. One could tease out quite a lot of information from words alone.

“As for myself...” The Prince spoke carefully. Young, but not brash; an odd combination, but not impossible. Dimitri had known many young men who could reign themselves in for an important meeting or two. Yet his words were delivered with deliberate thought, already understanding that royalty could not afford to speak freely with strangers, even if that stranger was a friend of your father-in-law. Dimitri once again yearned to know the name of the family who had bred such a boy.

“...Though feel free to correct me if you think I am wrong? I simply fail to see what good could come from executing a man consumed by petty jealousy, when our beloved Princess is fighting for her life. I feel our thoughts should be with her.”

‘Petty jealousy’? An interesting motive. The word choice piqued the Duc’s curiosity immediately, but the subject of Adalita’s illness took so much precedence to him that the curiosity was automatically filed away. A heaviness settled over Dimitri. He mentally shrugged it off, reached for his wine and settled into his ornate chair. He held the glistening ruby liquid, giving the Prince’s question much thought.

Octavien, apparently, was also very careful with his actions, even after an attempt against his life. Odd indeed.

“Your Highness is quite right. The kingdom does not need to fear for their Prince as well as their Princess. I was thinking more of an immediate execution, on the very day the scoundrel was captured. Certainly not a public march to the guillotine. But now I see I was not thinking at all.” Dimitri shook his head, solemn. He wanted to explain that he suspected the assassin of poisoning Adalita, and how every fibre of him wanted to throw the rat to the wolves already; but he could not do that until he knew the Prince knew.

“I ask you forgive an old man for not thinking straight. The Princess is very dear to me, I am afraid her illness has affected my judgment as well. ...I was here when she was born.” A soft smile spread across the craggy mountain that was his face. “I was here when she spoke her first word. I held her hands when she took her first step. Now I shall be here when she takes her last breath.”

Dimitri looked oddly into his wine, the scarlet reflecting an old memory in his eyes. He sipped it. Octavien’s words, if he spoke at all, seemed muffled in a thick whirr. The Duc was struck by a realisation—he had promised Edouard to pray for Adalita’s recovery, yet his heart already knew her to be gone.

[RubyAmbition]

"Ready for an afternoon ride?"

Annelise nodded, her curls bouncing happily. Obviously, she was entirely too happy to be out with Silvius, and nothing was currently going to ruin this. She led him, more or less, even though they had linked arms, out to the Stables. Cold, yes, but it was pleasant enough so that she was still glowing in the grey skied unhappiness that the weather broadcasted.

As they arrived at the Stable entrance, she looked over at him, beaming. "Alright. We've made it this far, and now I'm wondering if I should race you, or if you should race me? Or, shall we actually take a nice ride through the bleek countryside?"

She smiled at the stablehand, and asked politely for any horse to be saddled for herself. Annelise watched the boy as he did this, amazed that such a young man could actually manage this. The saddle itself probably weighed more than he did. But he was managing, and not making much of a sound when it came to lifting it onto the horse's back.

[AtropaMandragora]

Another moment of silence settled between the two men, as Dimitri took his time to ponder Octavien's words, in the light of his own and many years of experience and thus wisdom. And the young Prince himself allowed him to do so, genuinly interested in hearing what the older man would have to say. For some strange reason, he felt the Duc's approval mattered greatly. Octavien, who before coming here really had never felt the need to get anyone's approval. Either he had it or he didn't, it was all the same to him.
The first person to change that, had been Isabella, the very Queen herself. But he had never been quite sure if it had been because she was the Queen, or if it was because he was so drawn to her. He had behaved fairly correctly, of course, but hadn't known if it was because he was expected to by her and everyone else, or by himself to get what he wanted. Lately, however, he had come to realize that when it got right down to it, there was no seperating the two. They had gone hand in hand from the very start, and had now grown into one.
It had all been made very clear to him with his own course of actions over the past few days; his reasons for marrying Adalita, and for eliminating the threat that Marquess Berini had posed.
Then there had also been the King, of course, but that was an approval he felt he needed, regardless of whether or not he wanted it. And it had hardly been on an even remotely personal level, as the King appeared to be so distanced from everyone that sometimes he would seem a stranger even to his own family. Though he did take the advice of his wife and his daughter, and so Octavien had been approved and accepted by default, as both women appeared to have taken a liking to him, be it evident through words or actions. Isabella had wanted him promoted, and Adalita had married him.

This Duc d'Lorraine, however, seemed to be a very different matter. He did not seem the type of man who accepted anyone based on the judgement of others, but rather one that would form his own opinion, and do so with the greatest of care. A man whose respect and approval actually meant something, in a court where alliances were broken and trusts were betrayed on mere whims. Unlike so many here, he was not a noble by name only, but heart and essence as well; something that Octavien understood, appreciated, and strived for himself. Though it would probably take alof of effort, as he did not only have his own manners to refine and polish, but the opinions of others to battle as well. Not a noble from birth, there would always be those that insisted that even though he was now Prince, he was not a real noble at all, and he never would be.
Whether or not the Duc was one of them, would remain to be seen.

"Your Highness is quite right", the older man said, finally breaking the silence. "The kingdom does not need to fear for their Prince as well as their Princess. I was thinking more of an immediate execution, on the very day the scoundrel was captured. Certainly not a public march to the guillotine. But now I see I was not thinking at all."

While he shook his head, seemingly at himself, Octavien gave a gentle bow of his neck, to show that he registered and appreciated the Duc's acknowledgement of his reasoning.

"I ask you forgive an old man for not thinking straight", the Duc then continued. "The Princess is very dear to me, I am afraid her illness has affected my judgment as well."

Hos voice trailed off, only for a mere moment, and as he continued once more, a gentle smile came onto his lips, as if brought there by memories, by joys of days gone by;

"I was here when she was born. I was here when she spoke her first word. I held her hands when she took her first step. Now I shall be here when she takes her last breath."

With his last words, the smile slowly faded, and his gaze lowered itself to the contents of his glass of wine. Such a grim thought it must be, to watch a young girl be born, and blossom, only to wither away and die long before she'd been expected to.
Unsure of what to say in order to not sound cold, and yet not bring any attention to the man's sudden sentimentality, when he was even more unsure of how the man would react, Octavien simply joined him in sipping the wine. Then, only when it seemed proper, did he open his mouth;

"I did not want to be rash with the Marquess", he said slowly, keeping his eyes on the glass as he leaned forward to place it back on the table infront of them, and then looked up at Dimitri as he leaned back in his chair. "It occured to me, with Adalita's condition, that there might have been more to the story than just his hatred of me. So I had him brought to the dungeons instead, for questioning, once I was strong enough to withstand another possible attack. This morning, after the King's announcement, I went down there to talk to him. It was a conversation that left me convinced that he bears no ill-will against the Princess. Only me, for acquiring what he desired. Two days ago, he made threats aimed at me, about taking from me what I now have, and the conversation we had only confirmed to me that was his only aim and motive."

With that, he turned his head slightly to give one of the servant girls a meaning but far from unpleasant look; a gentle command for her to be more observant of the level of the wine in the Duc's glass, and never risk making him have to ask for it to be refilled. Wide-eyed with horror at her mistake, the young girl hurried over to correct it, and Octavien turned back to Dimitri, finding the older man now looking at him once more, with thoughtful scrutiny in his eyes.

"You are an interesting man, Your Highness," he said slowly, a hint of a smile in his steel-grey eyes. "I do not know what I was expecting, but you have surpassed it profoundly. And with that admission, I must be shamefully honest with you: I do not recall the name of your father or mother, nor from which family you come from."

Ah. This would be it then; the moment of truth. The moment where the Duc found out about Octavien's background. Not that it was a bad one, or worth belittling in any way, for even though he had not been born a noble, he did descend from a highly esteemed and fairly well known family.
Still, even if Duc d'Lorraine turned out to be one of the blue-bloods that believed only in pure-bred nobility, it seemed Octavien had already managed to earn a bit of his liking, judging be his short but oh-so significant compliment about Octavien surpassing his expectations. Perhaps that would be enough for Octavien to earn his acceptance, even if his lineage was not.

"I am the second and youngest son of Jean-Philippe Lahance and Marguerite-Antoinette Lahance", he said, carefully watching for a possible spark of recognition in the Duc's eyes. "We own quite a few large and prominent stud farms, and are rather well known for our highly acclaimed breed of Lippizans. Why, the royal stables even have a few of our specimens."



(((ooc: As I'm unsure of how the whole marriage/surnames thing worked during this era, I ask for leniency on his mother's last name. :D )))

[Seiza]

"I am the second and youngest son of Jean-Philippe Lahance and Marguerite-Antoinette Lahance. We own quite a few large and prominent stud farms, and are rather well known for our highly acclaimed breed of Lippizans. Why, the royal stables even have a few of our specimens."

Perhaps it was only his imagination, but the Prince seemed to steel himself for some sort of reaction. An expectation hung in the air as he spoke, causing Dimitri to think thrice about his own reply. He was sensitive enough to guess, perhaps, that Octavien expected an unfavourable response to his untitled past. Perhaps even an outright dismissal, if anyone could actually be so politically naive to snub a prince, whatever his background.

But life outside the palace had taught the Duc something about rank and its weaknesses. Rank was nothing on the battlefield. Rank was nothing when you died. And so, in his mind, this was nothing to sniff at; his words came out largely unfiltered. “Ah, Monsieur Lahance...”

He recognised the name. He certainly knew the breeds Octavien spoke of. Putting them together lit such a spark of recognition, and the light was now so obvious, that he could only laugh. A hearty baritone echoed off the fine walls, deep and warm and mirthful.

“Damn it all, I do know him after all! My good brother, bless his soul in Heaven, was among his most ardent admirers. I swear, he would have brought Monsieur to rear our horses personally if your father didn’t already have farms and family tying him down! A fine man, indeed.” He raised his miraculously full glass towards Octavien. “And a fine son, he has.”

The Duc’s sisters once gossiped incessantly about the less fine things Monsieur Lahance’s boys got themselves in, in years long past—but he thought it tactless to broach that particular topic. Octavien had thus far been nothing but pleasant, and so Dimitri’s words and his toast were truthful.

As the men further traded horse-rearing tips, it was as if a pall had lifted from the room. The Prince seemed genuinely enthusiastic—well now, how could he not be, with such a skilled father?—and Dimitri was as much a fan of such fantastic creatures as any other blue or red-blooded man. The afternoon lunch had been generally sombre. The topic of horses and breeds provided a haven amidst the reality of illnesses and assassins.

But the Duc was the Duc, and like a well-trained secretary attuned to nature’s clock, his mind eventually reminded him of another appointment he had.

When they reached a safe juncture in their conversation, Dimitri lowered his head apologetically. “This has been a fine lunch, Your Highness. I only hope it has proven as... refreshing for you as it has been for me.” He had not forgotten the bitterness emanating as fire from Octavien when he first entered.

______

((Thought it might be a good time to wrap it up, since RP evening is nigh upon us. XD

But I left it there in case Octavien has anything else to add. :D If he doesn't, feel free to have Dimitri leave the suite.))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Seiza - Loved it ( :D ), and I think it served as a good post to wrap it all up. I may add a post myself, but I doubt I'll be able to before we move on. Wouldn't be all that much anyway, just Octavien thanking the Duc in return for his company and for his kind words. Octavien did take them to heart. :) And he'd show signs of having thawed and relaxed a little bit... Uhmm.... Yeah. *s*)))

[Shenanigans_SC]

A cold winter's evening has settled on the Palace of Light and Air

[Seiza]

Dimitri left the Prince’s suite in unexpectedly raised, if subtly bemused, spirits. He had expected to meet a dry old man who had been foisted upon Adalita in the name of political matrimony, but had instead found a young man with an old soul. There was already a sort of fondness developing for him, reminiscent of when he first laid eyes on young Edouard—but where Edouard was someone Dimitri had been trained all his life to serve, Octavien was new, unknown, and so, still someone to be wary of.

The Duc did not stop at the hall windows, which overlooked the courtyard and pointed at the Princess’ suite. He would be seeing Baroness Venn soon. He did not want to meet the lady in a sombre mood.

He did not think it improper to simply collect the Baroness from her room. Rukov was not with him, but it made more sense to go directly than to send a servant to bring her to him. Yet when he reached the Grand Staircase, he saw her standing at the foot of it, enjoying some painting or other.

Dimitri was already three-fourths through chastising himself when he reached her level. His long strides descended two steps at a time, yet somehow he did so without the appearance of undignified running. He bowed low and humbly. “Forgive me, Baroness, if I have made you wait long. Matter of fact, I was just about to head to your room.”

_____

((If Mercy does not pounce on that terribly open line, I will die of horror. :D Oh, I wasn't sure where Mercy would actually be waiting, but I thought the staircase would be a decently safe level to place her. Just say the word and I'll change it.

Atropa: Much <3 for our first meeting! I kept imagining '++'s appearing over Dimitri and Octavien's heads when they were talking. :anime: ))

[Fayreview]

She was stood in the corridor wandering precisly what the punishment was for standing up Mercy Flight, when she heard fast footsteps. Someone was hurrying, a Royal servant perhaps, no the footsteps were to loud to be a sevrant, it was a courtier clattering about. Now which courtier could be rushing about? she turned as he descended the stairs. And there he was.

Mercy raised one eyebrow to the man in front of her, "actually my dear Dimitri-Josèphe I just got out of a long lunch myself." She smiled and paused "oh wait, how rude of me I should have said Duc d'Lorraine, shouldn't I." She folded her arms over her chest and raised eyebrows whilst saying this, giving herself a questioning pose one would never use with a duc. She held this pose whilst she counted to three in her head, she then gave a low bow and came up smiling once again.

It was winter and the days were still short, indeed it was already getting dark as Mercy looked out one of the long windows, it had been a long day already and now she was in the company of a man of whom she was particularly fond, dare she say that at such an early stage. Mercy moved her self so she could, much heeded by her Slate grey dress, lean against it. "I do hope your day has treated you well she said," she gave a small smile and inhaled slightly deeper than was strictly necessary causing her chest to gently raise before turning from Dimitri again to look down the corridor again, she sighed. What was she doing? He was a Duc! And a man whom she had not even given her full name.

[Seiza]

(( :laugh:

Post coming soon, I swear!

:laugh:

Ohoho, I just realised how close Dimitri got to almost standing up The Mercy Flight! The worst way to make an enemy of a woman. XDDD And it goes without saying, Fay, but you can move Dimitri wherever Mercy pleases. :D))

______

“Actually my dear Dimitri-Josèphe I just got out of a long lunch myself.” Baroness Venn smiled, like a little minx. “oh wait, how rude of me I should have said Duc d'Lorraine, shouldn't I.”

Dimitri allowed one eyebrow to rise, too amused to be offended that a Baroness and a woman could find it in herself to speak to him that way. It was splendidly indignant of her—ah, but could he fault her for it? After all, he had hidden his title from her, and the very next day, Edouard openly announced his presence. He hadn’t mentioned that Dimitri was a very old friend, but nobles who moved long enough within court circles immediately recognised the lord of Lorraine, and they had swooped in attack not unlike vultures.

Was Baroness Venn such a vulture? It didn’t seem so—She had invited him to meet before the announcement was made. And she had not been among the throng trailing him from the Grand Salon this morning. But it seemed she would make him squirm for his white lie, anyway.

“If you so wish, you may,” Dimitri matched her smile with a grave, upward tilt of his lips. As she rose from her elaborate bow—the impishness of the woman!—he captured a hand to properly greet with a kiss. “Although I would prefer you to use the name with which I introduced myself.”

It was a concession he would grant only to the Baroness, that needn’t be said.

“I do hope your days has treated you well,” she began, leaning against the wall. Her grey dress fell down in elegant, subtle folds—the Duc thought it a most fitting piece for a woman to wear, so different from the garish ensembles paraded by the younger females in court. An elegant dress such as this could highlight a woman’s many... ah, strengths...

Dimtri firmly kept his eyes on her face.

“It has been an exhausting morning, a refreshing afternoon. It remains to be seen how it shall end.” Even as he spoke, her gaze dropped along the corridor. He took her sigh to mean she was exhausted herself. “Perhaps we can quietly amuse ourselves this evening in the Great Hall? You may tell me how well your day has been treating you then.”

[Fayreview]

((Hmmm impish minx huh?

Dimitri is such a gentleman fixing his eyes firmly on Mercy's face rather that her... strengths

This post is rather confusing but in order to layer the conversation properly you have my last post, Se my new one slipped in together here))

“Actually my dear Dimitri-Josèphe I just got out of a long lunch myself.” Baroness Venn smiled, like a little minx. “oh wait, how rude of me I should have said Duc d'Lorraine, shouldn't I.”

Dimitri allowed one eyebrow to rise, it was a nice return to her gentle teasing, finally a reasonable man in a place far to filled with rules.

“If you so wish, you may,” Dimitri matched her smile with a grave, upward tilt of his lips. As she rose from her elaborate bow—the impishness of the woman!—he captured a hand to properly greet with a kiss. “Although I would prefer you to use the name with which I introduced myself.”

It was a concession Mercy knew signalled something quite amazing, a Duc who was willing for her to disregard his title was not a common occurence.

“I do hope your day has treated you well,” she began, leaning against the wall. Dimtri firmly kept his eyes on her face.

“It has been an exhausting morning, a refreshing afternoon. It remains to be seen how it shall end.”

Could he be suggesting something? Could a man of Dimitri's stature really be making such a suggestion to her? No a Duc would not, well a Duc Peitou-Charentes perhaps, but any man with respect for females that rose above the Physical form of a woman, or atleast above the corset area of the physical form of a woman would not.

“Perhaps we can quietly amuse ourselves this evening in the Great Hall? You may tell me how well your day has been treating you then.”

"My day has been..." she paused "interesting... and perhaps tiring thus far, I look forward to a nice evening with a good companion." With that she gently took the arm of the gentleman, quite fortunately with him being that much taller than her the very fact she had taken his arm meant he had to walk quite close beside her. "The great hall is nice but I find it draughty this time of year, I feel this room will be of more use to us for the evening." Mercy pushed open the door to the Blue Salon she liked this particular room, the aura made her glow she felt.

She inhaled sharply anf turned to her gentleman companion placing one hand over her mouth she spoke "I have done you a grave injustice..." she paused for effect keeping her hand over her mouth. "You must of course call me Mercy." She winked and the turned and walked to a chair beside the fire, an impish smile on her face, she finally lower her hand as she sat down with her back to Dimitri.

[Seiza]

(("Impish minx" being Dimitri-speak for "a good thing". :D ))
______

“My day has been... interesting... and perhaps tiring thus far, I look forward to a nice evening with a good companion.”

Dimitri chuckled to himself. “Interesting” and “tiring” seemed the best ways to describe the days of two mature souls.

The Blue Salon was, to his dismay, quite full of courtiers at this hour. Apparently, many people shared Baroness Venn’s opinion as to the coldness of the Great Hall. They sat in small clusters of threes and fours, women surrounding tables of delicate tea sets, men in corners holding glasses of wine.

Dimitri scanned the room for an empty spot. His gaze must have held some physical weight of its own, for two courtiers immediately got up when they felt his eyes floating over them. The Baroness did not seem to notice their departure, turning to him instead. This time, her impish smile was covered demurely by one hand. “I have done you a grave injustice... You must of course call me Mercy.”

“Hardly an injustice, Baroness Mercy, merely measure for measure.” He tested the name with a chuckle. From where he sat, Mercy’s back was surrounded by the gentle firelight, her fair skin glowing against the rich crimson hues and deep blue walls. Dimitri suddenly felt it a shame that she was widowed. Then he cast the thought from his mind, gesturing for wine and any drink the Baroness wished.

“It seems we’ve both been busy today. Whatever tiring you is not something I could assist with, could it?” Dimitri waved slightly in the general direction of the courtyard. “I could not content myself with merely repairing your dress, having almost ridden right over you. My aid is henceforth extended, until you or God has judged me fully repented.”

[Fayreview]

((The refernce to advanced age.... at 44,in this time period, Mercy would probably be 2/3 if not 3/4 of the way through her life time.

And welcome Dimitri to Mercy's own little kingdom....))

“Hardly an injustice, Baroness Mercy, merely measure for measure.” He gave a chuckle. Mercy smiled, the room was filled with people, but Mercy did not care she liked the background noise. Impolite little climbers may try to latch on to her companion, due to his sought-after title, dashing good looks and the thing that made him incredably weak, the fact he was a male and that men were.... men, but Mercy knew her own powers within the court would keep almost everyone at bay unless they were sent for or sent specifically to collect the Duc or Baroness.

Mercy looked over her gentleman friend thoughtfully, yes he would be inundated by young women who wanted him. However a man such as he must have had that his whole life. So that clearly was not what he was seeking, just as well, whilst Mercy was not unattractive, at her advanced age things were quite happily still in the correct place, but they required a little assistance here and there.

Dimitri gestured for wine and any drink the Baroness wished. To which she insisted on white wine. People said red was better at this time of year but personally Mercy always found it too heavy and so white was her staple when she drank, which unlike her late mother was not to often. She was musing over whether it felt right to ask him about himself especially considering Mercy had been doing her research and had gleamed all the information she could find from this source or another. When he spoke.

“It seems we’ve both been busy today. Whatever is tiring you is not something I could assist with, could it?” Ever the gentleman it seemed, dimitri had an old fashioned charm about him than she admired, young men just did not understand. That being why when it came to the courtiers the only ones she felt close to were female, and even then there was the appropriate distance as social concience dictated.

“I could not content myself with merely repairing your dress, having almost ridden right over you. My aid is henceforth extended, until you or God has judged me fully repented.” Mercy smiled and clicked her fingers, in an instant a handsome young man had appeared from within the depths of the room with a silver tray. On it was a hand written card in a masculin hand bearing the name of a dress maker, and a rather prominant one at that. Mercy was happy that a wine glass had been placed on the table beside her, pressumably sped up also by the click as it gave her something to do. As the card was presented to the Duc she sipped the wine and raised her eyebrows gently.

After watching his response she replied. "Sadly no, my day has been filled with womens work. Oh before I forget, I do have a small gift for you, as a symbol of our... friendship." She reached under the chair upon which she sat and drew out then handed him a plaque, mounted upon which was an elegant blue shoe with a cracked heel. "So you don't go running down any other ladies in a hurry," she gave a gentle smile then looked down at her lap, she bit her lip. Whilst she had masdterminded this whole evening to this point she handed expected to feel quite so strange at this point, it was not a bad feeling but merely a strange one. "For if you did, I suppose I may feel like just another woman."

[Seiza]

((Oh, they ARE close in age! Ah, they're just two old fogies resting their legs by fire, aren't they? :D

Sorry for the late reply, Fayre! Was working on a midterm essay and revising for a midterm exam in one day. :rip: ))

______

He didn’t see the silver tray until it materialised beside him. Dimitri knew himself to be more aware of his surroundings, usually. Perhaps it was the sleepy ambience of the Blue Salon distracting him tonight.

The Duc held the card between two fingers, the glass of wine resting in his other hand. Mercy did not seem the least bit surprise, which, of course, if he knew anything about women, was immediately cause for suspicion. Grey eyes flicked up to her curiously, before he opened the card. He recognised the address, vaguely. It was the dressmaker many noble ladies commissioned from... well, Mercy’s dress had been a gift from a Duchess, and this tailor was among the best there was.

Dimitri spent some time studying the handwriting, longer than it was necessary to read such an address. The lines were angular and masculine; perhaps what intrigued him was that he had been expecting a woman’s feminine strokes. He didn’t quite know what to make of it; and so with a nod, sharp like a soldier’s salute, he merely pocketed the card in the folds of his black coat.

Mercy appeared to have been waiting for him. She replied, “Sadly no, my day has been filled with womens work. Oh before I forget, I do have a small gift for you, as a symbol of our... friendship.”

Another brow rose in surprise. “Baroness, I couldn’t—”

Ah, too late! She reached below the seat—the seat?—and pulled out... a shoe?

Dimitri accepted the plaque in both hands, a fair bit too surprised to continue objecting. He looked at the cracked heel as intensely as he had the card. It was a rather small shoe, a demure blue. Christ almighty, had the carriage broken her shoe too? He had more to make up for than he’d thought. He hadn’t expected her to continue, but that she did, and her voice sounded unexpectedly odd. “For if you did, I suppose I may feel like just another woman.”

“...Ah, you planned everything!” Dimitri exclaimed, before shaking his head. “I assure you, Baroness, my carriages do not run over just any women.” He held up the plaque, emphasising his point, “And to remind myself, this shall have place of honour on my mantelpiece. Every morning I’ll emerge from my chambers, and think, ‘Never shall I almost kill another woman such as Baroness Mercy Venn!’”

The Duc placed the gift on a small end table, before clucking his tongue, wry and mirthful. “But now you’ve put me in the unfortunate position of having no gift for you, my lady. Luckily, you may tell me now, as I’m quite poor at picking good gifts anyway.”

[Fayreview]

((Again confusing, as its the last two posts compressed down with my current one added. But it adds "a rich layered finish to the final result" Ok so that is actually a quote from Delia Smith about a sponge cake but I felt it applied well here too.

and Seiza it's not a problem, work before play! I wish I could get around to doing my work... but I have a three day weekend ahead to do it so im procrastinating.))

Dimitri spent some time studying the handwriting, longer than it was necessary to read such an address. Then with a nod, a sharp one at that he pocketed the card in the folds of his black coat.

Mercy hoped he hadn't read too much into it, she had had the servant write the address whilst she had been choosing chairs for the little escapade, she concidered it but he seemed too reasonable to find much in the script.

“Sadly no, my day has been filled with womens work. Oh before I forget, I do have a small gift for you, as a symbol of our... friendship.” Mercy smiled gently. He reacted in suprise but her speed at acting out a plan was more than even his brilliant mind did in reaction to such a statement throw in at an obscure time. “Baroness, I couldn’t—”

Mercy was happy as Dimitri accepted the plaque in both hands, his suprise was mildly comical - was that a mean thing to think? - He looked at the cracked heel as intensely as he had the card. It was then the strange feeling hit, “for if you did, I suppose I may feel like just another woman.”

“...Ah, you planned everything!” Dimitri exclaimed, before shaking his head. Mercy had a sickening feeling run through her chilling her, was her caniving side too much? Had she let go of too much of a womans needing to be cared for exterior? Oh why didn't he speak, his pause had only been brief thus far but it felt like eternity. “I assure you, Baroness, my carriages do not run over just any women.” He held up the plaque as if to emphasise his point, and she relaxed, warmth returned to her. The risk had paid off now she just had to wait to see how well...

“And to remind myself, this shall have place of honour on my mantelpiece. Every morning I’ll emerge from my chambers, and think, ‘Never shall I almost kill another woman such as Baroness Mercy Venn!’” Mercy smiled. "That sounds like a very reasonable statement to make, Venn... yes I think it time I finally alerted the whole of the court to my reverting to my maiden name." Her smile shrank slightly, but was in fact one of greater joy, her husband was gone and she would finally show that she was completely free of him.

The Duc placed the gift on a small end table, before clucking his tongue, wry and mirthful. “But now you’ve put me in the unfortunate position of having no gift for you, my lady. Luckily, you may tell me now, as I’m quite poor at picking good gifts anyway.”

"All you require is a good teacher if we are to improve that matter, from the way you dress you seem to have good taste and from the way you are respected you must be a good judge of character. So all you require is someone to teach you how to put the two together, now do i need to recommend someonecloser to your own estate or will you be around long enough for me to take that burden upon myself?" The word burden was used in jest but the question was very real, fortunately she had friends out towards the Duc's estate, so if needs must she could always track him back to his own tertitory. However she hoped she would not need to after all she had promised to keep an eye on the Queen...

[stylequeen_SC]

Silvius smiled and held out his arm as the evening drew in, letting Annelise take his arm as they strolled back from the forest. Horse riding that afternoon had been great, especially when they stopped for a bit of canoodling under the large oak trees - the same place they had their first kiss

"You do captivate me!" he sighed, grinning at the girl on his arm

They walked back into the Palace, shivering a little as the cold air was still overwhelming and Silvius slowly pulled Annelise closer to him. Where to take her? End the evening now? Invite her back to his suite? He smirked, brushing his dark tousled hair from his eyes and grinned down at her

"Fancy a warm drink?" he asked her, gently caressing her cheek, "it's getting cold!"

[RubyAmbition]

"You do captivate me!"

Annelise smiled, that certainly was a thoughtful thing to say. "Ah, indeed, I'm sure I do." She leaned into his arm, as it was a bit chilly, feeling his arm pull her closer at the same time.

"Fancy a warm drink? It's getting cold!"

Still smiling as they headed into the warmth of the Palace, she nodded. "I s'pose it wouldn't hurt." She looked up at Silvius, pulling him towards her room. "I'm not just being polite here, you are indeed invited to my room for a lovely warm drink. And I hope you'll come along."

As crazy as it seemed, she wasn't paranoid that someone would hear this. It was far too late for most people to be up roaming, and too early for that as well. Possibly if it was heard, she wasn't afraid that someone heard. They had to know of his promiscuous ways by now, anyway.

[Seiza]

((Fay: Long weekends are such a godsend. :D

Gah, Short Post of Suck! I've been travelling back home and am settling in for a week-long break, but I didn't want to leave Mercy hanging. >_<))

______

“...So all you require is someone to teach you how to put the two together, now do i need to recommend someone closer to your own estate or will you be around long enough for me to take that burden upon myself?”

Dimitri’s lips curled into something of a crafty grin, noting how nimbly Mercy dodged his question. No matter, the dress was his first priority; he would take his time to consider a suitable gift. He emptied the last of his wine, waving away a servant rushing to refill it. The rosiness barely showed on this tanned cheeks, muted into a deep brown by the fire; but he could already feel the wine warming him.

“No, I won’t be returning to my estate in the foreseeable future. The King...” Surely he could not bring up the Princess here, not when the evening had so far been so pleasant.

“...The King wishes me here,” he ended simply. Dimitri closed his eyes briefly, visions of the snow-covered landscape filling his mind. “Perhaps one day, when the weather warms, you may carry your burden to the city, where we shall conduct your lesson. I haven’t visited it in very long, but friends tell me it’s as beautiful as when I left it.”

[RubyAmbition]

(((ooc: Okay, maybe I'm slow here but... Annelise isn't worried, cuz people already know Silvius' reputation. But what about her own? If she's seen inviting him in, it's not his reputation that will be tarnished, it's hers. Or do you mean she doesn't care that she'll be just another in the long line of women he's been with?
Don't mean to butt in or anything, I just didn't get the last part. :) )))

{{ooc: Logically speaking, yes, her reputation would be tarnished too. But I'm not all logical, so I couldn't tell ya. Perhaps she already thinks that her reputation is tarnished from something or the other, so therefore, she wouldn't care about her own reputation? Possibly the second bit, too, because she knows he's a promiscuous being and wouldn't care if she was just sex to him or not. Which makes her sound like a prostitute or appropriate slang word. But since I'm not sure if that's what she is to him, I dunno if that would be correct. If that makes any sense at all, I'm amazed. :)}}

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Think I might know what you mean, and all I can say is... Poor girl needs some self-respect. ;) Alright, carry on. :D
Oh, and... The site needs more sims. Ruby? stylequeen? Fayre? Haylifer? funheart? *crosses arms and taps foot expectantly* Hmmmmmmm? Of course, you don't have to share if you don't want to, so no pressure. It's just that I think these characters are great, and I think it could be so much fun to have them running around in our own games. :D )))

[stylequeen_SC]

ooc: ahaha there is indeed a sim Silvius :P and he's a terror I tell you! I'll reply when I get home Ruby :)

[Fayreview]

((Seiza I think we should leave it there as morning will come very very soon! and i think that is a nice point to end our evening :).

And Atropa i know, i know, but...... she is just sooo anime-ish and i can't even take pictures of her properly on this computer, let alone play her so I have no idea how she looks as a day-to-day sim.))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Eeek! Sorry about the delay guys!))

“The King speaks.” Came the usual words from Edouard as he took his place upon the usual platform in the Grand Salon. His features giving away the fact it had been a long night riddled with worry that just passed. Indeed, Adalita was not improving yet. Every day that passed with no signs of improvement took its toll upon his usually authoritive face. “Duc d’Cognac.” He called out for Felix to make his whereabouts known. “The Duc d’Lorraine has brought it to my attention that he deems you most worthy of a reward for superior service to our kingdom. You are granted with a gift of 18,000 livres. May you continue to serve us well.” With those short words, and no scandals to deal with he offered his arm to his Queen and the royal family made their exit.

[Shenanigans_SC]

After Mercy left the Salon, Isabella sat in quiet reflection for a few moments, her mind combing through Mercy’s words. She would have to see what she could find out about the apparent rumor that had reached Baroness Flight’s ears. For now she would push it out of her mind, and return to her suite.

Once in her suite Isabella sat under the careful tentative hand of Margret. She discussed with her the possibility of someone in the palace watching her. First Duchess Marie seemed to magically find out about her relationship with Octavien and now Baroness Flight hinted to it as well. It was rather upsetting. So much so apparently it made her stomach turn, uncomfortable with the thought.

After her hair had been let down entirely she lay upon her bed, with her eyes closed she felt at peace. Unintentionally Isabella drifted off to sleep. It was a skimming sort of sleep, one that never seemed to envelope you totally, always threatening to flee at the first threat of sound or commotion. Despite the fact, Isabella laid peacefully on her bed for some time, unaware of the passing of afternoon into evening.

Sometime during the evening Isabella was startled awake by a knock on the door. When Giles appeared at the door way, Isabella scrambled to get to her feet. How could she have let the night fall without visiting or sending for Octavien? She had assumed there would be no lesson tonight, and quite honestly she wasn’t keen on the thought of going to his room given the matter that was brought to her attention today. But despite all of that she had every intention of passing the night with him, one way or another.

Her mind willed it, however her body did not allow it. No sooner had she stood and walked a few yards her servant maids ran to her side to assist her as a sudden dizzy spell set upon her. One could see the concern on her maids faces. With Adalita’s sickness everyone was worried that perhaps the Queen had caught something during her times by the girl’s side. Isabella of course knew better, which was of absolutely no consolation. Had she eaten something that didn’t sit well? Or even more horrifying was the idea of whoever poisoned Adalita managing to get to her. Whatever the case may be, it was certain she would be spending her time right where she was. In her room, and in her bed.

Giles was sent back to his Master with the message of the Queen’s regret, and the information of her not feeling well that evening. It pained Isabella to do that, but really she had no choice. With the passing of some time, her servants managed to get her into her bedclothes before she returned to the comforting embrace of her bed. As long as she lay still, her eyes closed and silence filling the room she was okay. Just before she drifted off to sleep once again Giles had come to her door. This time passing something delicately wrapped to Margret who swiftly brought it to Isabella.

She watched as Margret unwrapped the small package, her face lighting up as she saw it was a single red rose with a note. As she held the paper in her hands, reading his handwriting brought a smile to her face, and warmth in her heart. It was a gesture so simple and yet so heartfelt that it would melt even a heart of ice. With the rose placed gently on her bedside table, Isabella finally drifted off into a deep sleep.

With the coming of morning Isabella awoke, no longer feeling ill in even the slightest of ways. It had been an odd night, to say the least. Though the sickness had passed, she could not shake the curiosity as to what had caused it. She intended then to send for Duc d’Cognac as soon as the morning announcements were through. She had been surprised she had not heard from him the day prior. Though certainly a traitor in their midst was not an easy person to track down, he had always proved most resourceful when pressure was adequately applied.

The royal family once again stood in the Grand Salon, without Adalita. Isabella listened intently as Edouard called for Felix to make his position known. Soon he revealed that Duc d’Lorraine thought his actions were commendable. Isabella found herself hovering between satisfaction with herself and curiosity with Dimitri. Had he let it slip to Edouard the details of why he thought Felix was deserving of a reward? Edouard had never been one to ask for details on her recommendations, she doubted he would require such things from his old friend who he trusted with everything.

After the announcements had been concluded, she dispatched a servant to fetch Duc d’Cognac right away. She would be waiting in her Salon for him.

((OOC: That's your cue Haylifer!! Hope to see Felix in action again! :) ))

[Fayreview]

Mercy frowned in the decided way of most 4 year olds, "well I suppose, Dimitri, I shall have to shan't I?" She was feeling rather good that evening and gentle teasing seemed right. Was that strange? Mercy had done it before among Gentlemen, without titles, both here and abroad. She had even had a go at the English aristocracy, but as soon as a man of wealth with a ticket to exotic lands had come along Mercy had turned to him, and dropped the teasing which he didn't enjoy to replace it with gentle massaging of his ego, well actually, it hadn't exactly been gentle. So perhaps she was just returning to the Mercy of Days gone by. One she had never had reason to wake from it's slumber until now.

She had felt strangely awkward when leaving him, the plaque still in his hand. She bowed as was customary, this time with some sincerity and then with a quick glance around she had moved closer, it was then she lost courage however and kissed his hand, this she accompanied with an impish smile. Even if he had suspected she was to someting else she had a little confidence that he would be thrown.

__________


She was feeling particularly youthful today, clearly, as she had chosen a long flowing pale pink dress the attention she paid during the address was minimal. Dimitri had some reason to be intrigued by Duc d’Cognac? Well she needn't know why i mean idle gossip, is only idle gossip. She located her small black pocket book, tales of courtiers gone by. She smiled brightly, the court gossip was finish she decided, she threw the book up in a high arc it spalshed down into the water... It floated on the fountain surface for a while before bubbling to the bottom.

With a certain feeling of satisfaction Mercy walked back up to the castle to find a man who could procure for her a name plaque for her rooms, it would serve as a reminder to the rest of the court as to her name. Mercy Venn.

((Bit blah blah but it felt right so I typed it.))

[stylequeen_SC]

ooc: I'm really sorry guys, but I think I'm going to have to drop out of this RP. It's been great while it's lasted, but the past few months I've just been having less and less free time (especially time to RP - and RP well) and I'm afraid I can't keep up anymore :( I will still come online from time to time and keep up with this thread, hopefully Silvius can rejoin if I get my life back, but I just don't want to be a burden and not be replying when people want to. I know how it feels to be on the receiving end and it's not nice. So, very sorry, especially to RubyAmbition, but this is Silvius - out :(

[RubyAmbition]

ooc: Aww...I hope you live well and prosper! {{Call me lame, but I've said it to people at my checkout before.}}

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Sorry to see you go, stylequeen. :( Will you make a Silvius-goes-away-post, so that we can RP accordingly? Or should we just RP as if he's simply vanished and no one knows why? )))

[Fayreview]

((Simple his servants got their revenge from beyond the grave ;) Anyway so sorry to see you go! Good luck in life, love and war... well you know what i mean.

We are running low on courtiers now :blink: could this be a sign? Mmm... perhaps i'm just in a mood again.

And finally I will be quiet for a while (shockingly I can do that!) back to school tomorrow and there are prospects of exam re-sits. Sadly when evolution made us intelligent it made us so intelligent we want to test each others intelligence.... Ah well :lovestruc EvolutioN :lovestruc it's all cool really.))

[Haylifer]

((Thanks Shenan :) Felix needed a lead back into things, he went off to celebrate and got lost on the way home lol. I've been dead all week and I'm still a bit sick but I'll RP tomorrow as soon as I can. Then I'll kick my lazy muse into action, promise :D))

[Fayreview]

((Ok it seems it's all gonna be more work than I thought, and I have to admit I am considering leaving you all at S2C for good. It just doesn't feel like home anymore thanks to one individual in particular who shattered my dellusions to protect their own.

I shall have a descision for you soon, be it a simple deletion of this post or the exit of my darling Mercy flight.

Of course nothings final yet but still, sorry all. Particularly you Seiza! Your writing inspired me and I must admit Dimitri is what is making me hesitate about leaving, you have a supreme tallent for writing. Something I both admire and envy. But what can I say? I'm a scientist not a novelist, sad as it may be! Yes I hope if I do leave Dimitri will continue and even if he can't, that you will join another roleplay, here or somewhere else and keep giving your beautiful writing to the world. Afterall beautiful written works are a vital form of art. Art is, of course, something deep and meaningful showing the most brilliant parts of the mind of its creator. And you clearly are brilliant.

Fly high, Smile bright and Realise your brilliance Seiza!

Yours, most Sincerely,

Fayreview))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((Fay... I've sent you a PM. I sure hope Mercy won't be leaving us. I need her!
Hay... Where's Felix?? Isabella needs him!
Everyone... Afternoon was supposed to be called today, but I'm delaying some. I don't want to push the RP on when the flow isn't there. So everyone who has not been active, please, fell free to post and lets see what our Characters come up with! ))

[littlesunshine123xx]

((OOC: Hey guys I am back. I am so sorry for not posting for a long time, but school and drama took over my life and I havent had time to sleep never mind type lol. Could someone do me a huge favour and just pm what has happened so far, just the big events so i can catch up. I am going to say that Fleur has been ill for however long i have been gone and has only just fully recovered))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Fay - I second Shenan's statement. But you knew that already. ;) )))


The night that had passed had seen the young Prince in quite a few different states of mind. Even though he had spent the evening on his own, Gilles occasional presence being the only exception, the day that had led up to it had been quite eventful, and given him alot to think about. First and foremost, Mercy Flight and her threats. Where before he'd felt nothing less than a polite friendliness for the woman, there now stirred something darker. Something that had been awakened by a certain Marquess, and caused Octavien to rid himself of that particular threat to himself and Isabella. That very same protective instinct was calling out to him again, to teach the nosey Baroness a lesson she would not soon forget, to show her that one did not threaten Octavien, Prince or not, and get away with it.
There was only one thing that held him back, that kept him from unleashing the most cunning and vicious part of his mind, and that was the fact that he believed Mercy had been blinded by her concern for Isabella, and acted like such a fool because of it. A fool, not only because she had threatened to kill him, but because she had threatened to keep the secret safe only if he did as well, and didn't mention their little 'talk' to the Queen. It seemed she had overlooked that if he was to go against her wishes, and mention it to the Queen, Mercy breaking her own silence to the public would not hurt Octavien as much as it would hurt Isabella; the person she was supposedly protecting. If that happened, not only would she risk Isabella's possible disfavour for threatening Octavien, she would also fall from grace entirely by revealing a secret that was not only Octavien's, but Isabella's as well.

Still, right now, Octavien had decided to say nothing to Isabella. Not to protect himself from Mercy, but to protect Isabella from worry she certainly did not need, and to give Mercy a chance to realise and recognize his benevolence towards her. Though first, she would need to realise her mistake, and the fact that he had noticed it as well.

Then there was the Duc, the second surprise of the day, and the pleasant one at that. Given what Isabella had had to say about him earlier, Octavien had been wary of him, and expected him to be strict and rigid. But while at first he had been, he hadn't been particularly cold, and then as the topic of Octavien's family and heritage came up, he seemed to have actually relaxed. That, in turn, had loosened the ropes that the recent bitterness had tied around Octavien's own usually endearing charm, and they had ended up having a most pleasant conversation.
When finally Dimitri had left the Prince's suite, Octavien was once again in a fairly good mood. Still somewhat wary - as recent experience had taught him that no matter how friendly and agreeable people seemed at first, they could eventually turn out to be snakes - but in a good mood.

Last but not least, there had been Isabella's message, that she was not feeling well, which had thrown him right back into a more sombre mood. It was a message that had left him not knowing what to think. His first thought had been of Adalita, and the illness that was ravaging her body. Was it trying to claim Isabella as well? Was she laying in her suite, in her bed, looking but a pale ghost of what she once was?
Then, something occured to him. Had she really thought it was the same illness, had she even had reason to think that it was, she wouldn't have settled for just a message that she wasn't feeling well. She would've forbidden him to even come close to her... wouldn't she...? Out of concern for him? Considering the concern she had admitted to feeling when she'd heard there'd been an attempt made on his life, it didn't seem unlikely.
Then again, perhaps it was just the reasoning of a man clinging to straws. But it did manage to ease his mind a bit.
Until something else occured to him; a woman claiming that she wasn't feeling well... More often than not, when such an excuse was given, there was something more to the story. Octavien knew. While he had never been subjected to such an excuse himself, he had occasionally been the reason for one, when mistresses of his had kept their husbands out of their bedroom, in favour of a visit from Octavien. And there was that side of him where the last shreds of doubt still lingered, that he was her only one. The presence of Felix, the former comte and now duc, had him on edge, even despite what Isabella had said about never having gone to bed with the man.
The same went for that blasted conversation with Baroness Flight. It too had made Octavien somewhat paranoid. Could it be that she was behind Isabella not wanting to see him this evening? Had she spoken to Isabella about what she had spoken about with him, and somehow tried to sway Isabella's feelings away from him? Was that why she hadn't wanted him to mention the conversation she'd had with him, to Isabella? So that she wouldn't risk having the two of them discover what she was trying to do, and turn against her?
If so, she was playing a far more dangerous game than he'd first thought.


He had wanted to go over to Isabella's suite, to see her, to find out, but Gilles had held him back, claiming that while he hadn't spoken to the Queen, he had caught a glimpse of her on the bed, and it had indeed seemed that she was alone, and not feeling all that well. Reluctantly, Octavien had resigned, but not fully settled. He wanted her to think of him. For some reason, he felt he even needed her to.
Thus, Gilles had been dispatched again, this time with a note, and orders to fetch a rose from the orangerie, and deliver them both to Isabella's suite. Just like last time they could not spend the night together, Octavien still wanted to somehow show his affection.


After that, another night of little to no sleep had followed. Mostly, the young Prince had just tossed and turned, going over the possible reasons for Isabella's message in his head, again and again, and never getting anywhere.
When morning came, it was nothing short of a blessing. Not only because it would give him something else to do than stare up at the canopy, but also because it would shed some light on Isabella's health.
Much to his relief, being escorted down to the Grand Salon for the morning announcement, she appeared to be her usual regal self. Back straight, head held high, faint, cordial smile on her rosey lips. A relief to see, and yet equally worrisome, as it only went on to support his other theories.

When trailing back out of the Grand Salon, behind her and the King, Octavien wanted nothing more than to somehow claim a few minutes alone with her. But, he realized that now was certainly not the time. And so instead, he had one of his servants fetch him his winter coat, and then ventured out into the frozen gardens, alone.


(((ooc: Sorry, kind of rushed, but hopefully fairly coherent. He's approachable though.)))

[Fayreview]

((Ok dear friends I am leaving S2C but as i took on a responsibility here at the court I shall hang on here. You are the only thread on this site that will get my attention on a regular basis it is sad but it is the best I feel I can offer.))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: Fay, I'm glad to see that you're sticking around for us. *hugs*
Hay... where's Felix?? Isabella needs him!

I have an announcement to make.

This RP is by far my favorite, and I see it dwindling down, it’s almost heart breaking. I’ve been trying to think of ways to give it a little boost. I’ve taken ideas and suggestions and I’ve decided to allow participants to have two characters if they’d like to. There are however a few requirements.
1. Before creating a second character, you need to be actively participating with your first character. That is an absolute minimum of a post each section of the RP day for a real life month.
2. Those of us who have characters with power, (Seiza, Fay, myself), our secondary characters are not eligible for the advisor’s position.

I’ve done this in hopes of having more characters around to hopefully liven things up.

For anyone who is thinking of joining with their first character, I welcome you! If anyone has any questions please feel free to ask. Secondary characters need to have a complete application filled out.

[AtropaMandragora]

Name: César de la Vallière
Title: Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan (visitor)
Age: 23
Bio: Imagine for a moment the untitled Octavien Lahance, not yet a courtier at the Palace of Light and Air, as a cartoon character, with the classical angel on one shoulder, beseeching him to behave and be good, and a tiny devil on the other, constantly tempting him to be naughty and bad.
That tiny devil, would be César de la Vallière; Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan and one of Octavien's best friends since childhood. Good-natured, charismatic, and with eyes rarely lacking a spark of humor and mischief, the two years older César was the ringleader of sorts, of what one could call the late 17th century 'brat pack' - the circle of friends - that Octavien was part of before being sent to the court by his parents, to mature.

César is very much a man of his time, and his social standing. With his father having died a few years ago, he's now the man of the house and the estate, and the head of the family, consisting of his mother, his wife, and two (legitimate) daughters, whom he adores. He spends a great deal of his time on the favorite past times of the young and the wealthy, such as riding, horse racing, fencing, hunting, parties and balls, playing cards, visiting the opera and the theatre, etcetera, and despite being married at the age of seventeen - an arranged marriage, but not one he objected to, or even minded much - he's still a ladies man. However, he's not the kind of man to leave a woman's bed, never to return. The affairs he has are rarely 'one-time' things, and do not limit themselves to nothing but bedroom activities. Over the years, he's had a few select mistresses, to whom he keeps returning, and has only occasionally had brief flings. But even with his wandering eye, and even though his mistresses tend to end up rather well off - recieving gifts of money, dresses, jewelry and perhaps even a small mansion - he would never flirt with another woman or look at her excessively, while in the presence of his wife. Despite his affairs, he does love her - her wits, her passion, her beauty, not to mention the firey temper that he so loves to tease - and he will never spend too many nights in a row away from her bed. He simply believes it's a man's privilege to have a mistress or two. Still, he might have a tendency to neglect her and take her for granted every now and then. They are married after all, and so in a way he's already and always entitled to her, whereas a mistress isn't bound to him by anything but interest alone. Thus, Josephine might not recieve as many and as romantic gestures as her rivals.


Picture:
http://www.crimson-tale.com/VipersNest/Downloads/Cesar-de-la-Valliere-Marquis-de-Mont-de-Marsan1.jpg

[Shenanigans_SC]

24 hours till afternoon is called

So if you were going to get a morning post in, do so now!

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Yeah... Where IS everyone? I'm the only one that has made an RP post in DAYS, and me, Shenan and Fay are the only ones to have made a morning post at all.... WAKE UP, PEOPLE! :) )))

[Fayreview]

((It is brief but it is mother's day and I haven't even had a chance to read your magnificent post Atropa, despite several refernces to you-know-who. But I shall! You have my word!!!!!))

Mercy decided perhaps the doorman was her best bet and so after her lengthy discussion, intertwined by some flirting with the man, who looked like a man of about Dimitri's age with a slightly harder life, with wrinkles and slight bags under her eyes. She understood her reluctance to Say he'd had a much harder life. After all one could not miss the marks on Dimitri's strong face, but they added character so she, personally, did not mind. And did she really even have a right too?

She walked away with a polite smile and a solid knowledge she would never forget the mans name again, it seemed the doorman was actually a Josephe himself. Her blues settled back on the fountain into which her pocket book, she had hurled. Searching for a sign of existance. She could find none, and that was a good thing. She was at peace. My that sounds ghastly she thought. I am NOT dead... Much to some peoples dismay. She allowed her eyes to trail around the gardens in search of a bench that would not, when the wind picked up, be sprayed by the fountain. She saw one in the sun light infront of the hedge maze and having no serious plans for this day she headed there to bask in the winters day....

[Seiza]

((Hi all, I'm so sorry for going MIA! My home internet's been teetering on the edge of death for ages now, and then it finally decided to die, so I haven't been able to come online. I'm back at my hostel now with a working internet, so expect Dimitri to show his face for the afternoon at some point. :D

Shenan, sorry I couldn't get back to you, but I think having secondary characters is a great idea! I already have one idea brewing in my mind...

Fay, my dear, you are so much LOVE. *blush* Gah, I'm so glad to hear you're staying with us! Mark my words, you leaving would leave a gigantic hole in this RP. D:

stylequeen, I'm sorry to see Silvius go! But as long as he isn't dead in the RP, there's always a chance he'll return. :) ))

[Slytherin-Girl]

Name: Marie-Elisabeth Valois

Title: Comtesse de Valois

Age:20

Bio: Married at 13 and widowed at 17, Marie-Elisabeth widely says she only gained two good things from her arranged marriage. Her massive inheritance from her husband, and their 6 year old son Charles. Named for her late husband, he is being educated and cared for by the best tutors money can buy. As the widow of the Comte de Valois she might not have inherited his estate but, as the mother of his only son (his first wife had 2 daughters), she holds it until he comes of age. Her two stepdaughters are named Sophie (14) and Helene (16).

Being forced into her marriage at such a young age, she believes she never got to experience life. Being saddled with a husband who was literally 4 times her age was something Marie-Elisabeth has always resented. She has come to court to make something of her life and hopefully have some fun while she’s there.

Overall, Marie-Elisabeth can tend to be quite bitter about life (Due to her past life experiences) and always has a look about her that suggests she’s plotting something. However she always keeps her own best interests and those of her young son close to her heart. She has a small locket with a portrait of him in it that she wears at all times. She also has a particular weakness for beautiful clothes.

In terms of the "look" I've often said Marie-Elisabeth has on her face, I refer you to this gorgeous picture that has it dead on: Link (http://marksatchwill.deviantart.com/art/The-Courtesan-82838885)

Picture:

Marie-Elisabeth

http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a286/hikari-schezar-bloom/PDVD_348.jpg

With her (now deceased) husband

http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a286/hikari-schezar-bloom/lisabhusband.jpg

The portrait of her son in her locket

http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a286/hikari-schezar-bloom/xavier.jpg

[Shenanigans_SC]

So glad to have you slytherin!! Your character seems well thought out. Maybe now Felix will come out of the woodwork!

[Slytherin-Girl]

OOC: Thank you :) I would've felt out of place if didn't think her through right, the writing level in here's kind of intimidating!

She sort of took on a life of her own so it wasn't too hard to flesh out :D

[Shenanigans_SC]

It's afternoon now!

[Ghanima Atreides]

((ooc: Thanks Atropa for the invitation and the opportunity to give Joséphine a backstory. This looks like great fun and I'm happy to join))

Joséphine de la Vallière, Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan

Name: Joséphine de la Vallière

Title: Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan (visitor)

Age: 22

Bio: When Joséphine of Vortigern, aged sixteen, was told she was going to become the Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan, her fanciful mind projected the beginning of a fairytale marriage with all it entailed. Having witnessed it happen to her elder sister, Joséphine dreaded being married off to a man many years her senior, or otherwise brutish and violent for as long as she could remember.

César was not like that. Young, handsome, intelligent and endearing, he appeared to be the husband any woman desired, and Joséphine was smitten with him almost from the beginning.

Loosing her innocence came at a terrible price however: settled comfortably in the plush luxury of the Mont-de-Marsan estate, Josephine witnessed, year after year, her husband's infidelity, chipping away at the idealized view of life she had fashioned for herself. At first, she bottled her jealousy, hopeful that César's affairs were only fleeting, temporary, but as time went by, she was forced to accept a rather different reality. Joséphine did it proudly, turning a blind eye whenever her husband did not share her bed at night or was seen whispering in another woman's ear words unknown, despite the ache it caused her, often wondering whether César believed she did not know or, just as she pretended not to, so did he. From the moment of her birth, she had been bred into a lady, and a lady did not become angry. A lady did not question her husband's behaviour.

Joséphine tried, and often succeeded.

Sometimes however, she did not. Unknown to most outsiders, a scorching flame burned beneath the Marquise's calm, quiet exterior. A fiery passion that rebelled against her conditioning, which tempted her mind with beguiling whispers. That hidden fire would surface when it grew too hot to contain, often in surprising ways. Transforming from a girl into a woman and later a mother, Joséphine grew more and more aware of her power over a man's mind, of the effect a stolen glance and a fleeting touch could produce, inwardly horrified at her wantonness whenever such thoughts percolated. And just a little exhilarated.

César, too, baffled her. Despite the attention he lavished on his mistresses, he was not cold towards Joséphine, or their two daughters, Adèle and Angélique. On the contrary, he remained the charming young man she had married, alternating between the attentive husband and loving father and the ladies' man; however she would often get the feeling she was a step below his mistresses as far as his interest was concerned. This stirred Joséphine's fiery core, causing her to undergo endless private debates as she struggled to understand what it was that she lacked that he felt the need to look for in other women. She continued to educate herself despite her mother-in-law's disapproval, driven by a personal desire to enrich her knowledge and awareness of what went on around her, growing ever more skilled at reading others' mannerisms, including César's, who enjoyed challenging her and being challenged, a game of wit and subtle provocation that had as many chances of ending in a night of passion as it did in a cold “good night”.

In society's eyes, Joséphine is the perfect image of a dutiful wife with a pleasant singing voice, the angelic-looking Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan. However, if one lingered in her presence longer, they might discover that underneath that demure façade lurked a keen mind and a woman who was as sweet natured as she was ambitious, capable of unexpected astuteness.

Thanks to her husband's friendship with Prince Octavien Lahance, Joséphine now had the opportunity to be introduced into the court life surrounding the Palace of Light and Air, a world that dazzled and intrigued her at the same time, for it appeared to house a couple of strong, influential women like she aspired to become. To be taken seriously by men and respected for more than just her title is one of Joséphine's ambitions, and she often finds herself regretting having been born a woman.

Picture:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v48/Ghanima/RP%20Contests/Josephine.jpg


((ooc: I decided not to mention Joséphine's, ah, secret, at this point and let it be discovered through rp. But if it's necessary I'll add it to her bio))

[Seiza]

That morning, Duc Dimitri-Josèphe watched quietly in the back of the Grand Salon while the King presented the Duc d’Cognac with a certificate of 18,000 livres. He had been right to consider his suggestion through the night—Edouard hadn’t wasted time consulting him over suitable candidates for Mollier’s old position. One day was clearly not enough to make any concrete opinions, particularly when much of it had been spent in the company of the very royalty he was serving.

Nevertheless, the Queen’s words proved to him that the Duc d’Cognac had done one of his duties to his king and country. No doubt she would have him greatly rewarded in secret, but in this way...

Even if Edouard wasn’t aware of his daughter’s poisoning, he was unknowingly rewarding the man who was, in some way, avenging her. He thought the King would like that.

Nonetheless, Dimitri could not excuse himself: he had made a suggestion that was not necessarily with the intention of choosing the next Advisor. The Duc d’Cognac had indeed rendered the country a great service, but that alone did not prove him adequate for the position. Dimitri could not shake off the ill feeling that, if he was correct, such reconnaissance had been done under the Queen’s secret orders. Was that truly the mark of a man meant to have the King’s ear?

And so the rest of the morning was spent meeting other aristocrats, renewing old ties long forgotten (and some he would much rather forget entirely). Through breakfast with a Comtess and conversation with several nobles on a balcony overlooking the forests, Dimitri had been watching, analysing, probing. They were all very young, spoiled, haughty. There was plenty problematic about these candidates, problems that the young eventually had beaten out of them by the Rod of Life; but nothing particularly outstanding about their characters. He must have forgotten half of them by the time he left the balcony, and it was already afternoon.

Yesterday had been a most exhausting day in some ways, but utterly slow in others. He couldn’t think of a moment when he hadn’t held a glass of wine or a biscuit in his hand.

This, obviously, would not do. He was two years shy of living half a century on this sordid earth, but that did not mean he could allow himself a magnificent bulge like many of his contemporaries. Dimitri crossed the Grand Staircase, heading to the Great Hall for a bout of practice. Perhaps he would find a driven, passionate, ambitious young man at fencing.

______

((slytherin-girl, Marie sounds awesome! I can't wait to see her in action. :D If she's just arriving and you need a place to come in, Dimitri's totally approachable at the moment. He's anywhere between the Blue Salon and Great Hall--basically, anywhere in the main hallway.

[EDIT] And now Ghanima's here too! *explodes from excitement* Oh, and I think it's best to allow the secret to be discovered via RP. Keeps things in suspense! My two cents. :) ))

[Shenanigans_SC]

((OOC: *claps* Yay! So glad to see you Ghanima! I can't wait to see RPs for our three newest characters!

I'm going to try to get an RP up later today, but I can't make any promises. Real life has kind of taken a toll on me right now. Hay, I don't know what to do about Felix not coming at the Queen's request. Let me know if you have something in mind.))

[Slytherin-Girl]

The afternoon found Marie-Elisabeth perched on a stool in her rooms in front of the vanity. Her hair was being dressed by one of her maids, and she had the stool turned toward the room instead of the mirror so that she should supervise the unpacking of her things.

She regretted the fact that she hadn’t arrived until the afternoon and had missed the king’s morning announcements, but she hadn’t been able to help it. She smiled slightly and touched the ever-present locket around her neck, remembering how distraught her son had been at her leaving. It had taken the better part of the morning to calm him down and reassure him that she wasn’t going away forever. She of course was already missing him terribly, remembering how he had clung to her neck and cried that he “Didn’t want her to leave forever like papa”.

The only way she had managed to persuade him to let her leave was with promises of near daily letters. This of course had the double effect of forcing him to work on his reading and writing skills, which was doubly good in her opinion.

Marie-Elisabeth was shaken out of her reverie by her maid announcing that her hair was finished, and just needed a coat of powder. She obediently closed her eyes while the woman went about the task of powdering her hair.

When she was finished, Marie-Elisabeth opened her eyes and swivelled around in the seat to face the mirror. She smiled, clearly very pleased with how she looked. “Lovely as always Jeanne” she said, standing up to admire her reflection better “You really are a wonder”.

“Thank you Madame” said the maid, curtsying and withdrawing to help with the rest of the unpacking.

Her appearance finally completed Marie-Elisabeth surveyed herself with a great sense of satisfaction. Her hair had been powdered and done up in an elaborate pompadour style, with several pale blue flowers interspersed that matched her dress. The dress itself was a beautiful creation of yellowish silk with blue ribbons and embroidery scattered all over. Her shoes were the same pale blue colour as the flowers in her hair, and she lifted her skirts up slightly to admire those as well.

“It is such a relief to be out of mourning clothes and into something beautiful again” she thought as she carefully re arranged her skirts. She then felt a slight pang on guilt and twisted her wedding ring around on her finger. “But what’s in the past is in the past, and mooning over Charles’ death won’t bring him back again. It’s time for me to start my life anew” she thought, turning to Jeanne.

“I can trust that you will supervise the unpacking in a satisfactory manner, can’t I Jeanne”, she asked, picking up a matching fan from the table. “Of course Madame” her maid replied with another elaborate curtsy.

“Good” she said, sweeping through the suite and to the door “I will be back later on in the day to make sure everything is satisfactory. I am going to take a walk around the palace to become acquainted with my new surroundings and the people here”. She opened her fan up and fluttered it as she left and shut the door behind her.

Marie-Elisabeth wandered around the palace for a while enjoying the elaborate and beautiful surroundings. She had made her way to the entrance of the Great Hall when a tall man with several scars criscrossing the left side of his face crossed her path.

“Good afternoon Monsieur” she said, curtsying politely to him.


OOC: Holy crap o.0 when I get going I get going don't I? LOL I must be in the right place.

[Seiza]

His path to the Great Hall—and hypothetically, just possibly, to a young man who was ambitious enough to be the King’s Advisor—was intercepted by a woman. She was young (that was becoming less of a surprise with every passing hour in Edouard’s palace), demurely holding a fan in one hand. It was clear even to a man like Dimitri that the fan matched perfectly with her expensive dress, which complemented the shade of azure flowers in her hair. It was the sort of flawless compatibility that only women of certain means could achieve.

“Good afternoon Monsieur” she said, curtsying politely to him.

‘Monsieur’. She was a newcomer.

But that was something of a relief, for the Duc did not recognize her either. He only needed one long stride to cover the distance between them. Within that one move, he had adjusted the pale cream cravat at his neck, flattened his coal-coloured cloak, and did nothing to his hair, for it remained perfectly tied in a dark gold ribbon; everything about him was strictly placed, including his arms as he bowed politely.

Dimitri gestured to take her empty hand to kiss if she would so allow it. “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle. I am Duc Dimitri-Josèphe d’Lorraine.”

He privately thought the whole business of titles to be a trifle annoying, quite useless in certain conditions. But court protocol could not be broken. If the lady was of lower rank than he—and he thought, not with boastfulness but with the blandness of making obvious statements; that it was most likely she was—it would be to her detriment to call him “Monsieur” before other nobles.

“I do not believe we have met. Did you just arrive today?”

Something about her—the fan, perhaps, or the crafty arch of her brow—told Dimitri he should know her. Had they met at some point before...?

_____

((slytherin-girl, I believe this is one RP that likes long posts so no worries. ;)

littlesunshine, I'm not sure how much updating you need but the only public event was that Felix was rewarded by the King for "great service to the country". Some other private stuff happened: Mercy threw her black book in the fountain (which is just totally, like, dying to be discovered by someone <.< >.>), and Dimitri found out that the Princess was poisoned.

[EDIT for below] Kekeke, well, maybe certain suspicious remnants of the ink will remain... :anime:

Kidding. I totally forgot that the ink back then was nothing like our ballpoint inks now. XD There's still potential in this though! *puts on scheming cap*))

[Fayreview]

((By all means discover it if someone feels they would like to see that side of Mercy but I was very careful to say it was tales of courtiers gone by, shall we say it is the...... first volume? And therefore whilst it will reveal to you the true nature of Mercy Flight/Venn it will only give you an incite into the backstory I have typed up somewhere on this PC. Hmm I should find that, i even have a complete family tree somewhere :)))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: But even if someone did find it, shouldn't the ink have disappeared by now? I assumed that was why she threw it in the fountain in the first place; to destroy it?

Oh, and I sent littlesunshine a loooooong PM of what's been going on. *lol* She should be very much up to date. ;)

And poor Octavien is still freezing his butt off in the gardens. Can't help but to wonder where everyone is hiding. Ruby, funheart, littlesunshine, Haylifer? Helloooooo? :D )))

[Shenanigans_SC]

Isabella sat in her Salon, waiting for Duc d’Cognac to enter, to report on the task she had given him to do. Her eyes wandering the room, she was soon lost in thought. So much was going on at the palace, so many pokers in the fire. She would have to do what she had to do to take care of them all.

Soon she was startled back to reality when a servant came through the door, a most somber of looks attached seemingly permanently on her face. “Pardon me your majesty…” the girl began meekly. She soon explained that she was sent by the royal physician to fetch her. Though Isabella’s posture remained tall and royal, a forboding veil settled over her as she made her way to Adalita’s side.

Once in the room, the doctor informed Isabella that he did not expect the young girl, that was once so filled with life, to make it through the night. Though Isabella had never particularly felt motherly towards the girl, her heart cracked with pity for her.

If she indeed had less than 24 hours of breath within her, Isabella would stay by the girl’s side.

((OOC: As some people already know, I kind of have a lot of **** going on in my personal life right now. Isabella is parked by Adalita’s side right now so no one is waiting on me to RP and Isabella’s not being obtrusive. If Octavien or Dimitri wants to be in Adalita’s room, by all means you’re welcome, and you could bring Edouard with ya. But please just have Isabella quiet and thoughtful. I’m doubtful I’ll be able to interact with ya. I’m still around to check on the RP and answer questions and PMs. I just can’t RP right now.))

[Slytherin-Girl]

Marie-Elisabeth smiled as the man took her hand and kissed it. "A good afternoon indeed Duc d’Lorraine" she said, smiling at him. It was inwardly driving her absolutely mad because she was certain she knew him from somewhere, and for someone who prided herself on remembering names and faces it was certainly rather disturbing. She should have been able to remember such a distinctive looking man, perhaps he had been a friend of Charles'?

He had introduced her to many of his friends certainly, but it was more in a casual "showing off my pretty young wife" way than in a way that he honestly wished her to get to know them. She supposed if he did indeed know her husband, the mention of her name would cause some sort of recollection.

"I'm Comtesse Marie-Elisabeth Valois. I did indeed arrive just this very afternoon. It took me longer than I expected to depart from home since my young son was most distraught at my leaving. He's become very attached to me as of late, so I do hope I haven't offended anyone with my lateness or missed anything of importance".

[GeeWayrocks]

{{OOC: Life has been sorted out, so I'm back to inflict another character on you people}}

Name: Emmeline Bouchard
Title: Cometess du Bouchard
Age: 26
Bio: Emmeline mostly lived the good life. Sheltered by her parents from most of the harsh realities of the world, Emmeline grew up an only spolied child. She was married at seventeen and widowed at twenty four. Her husband passed away in his sleep because his health was increasingly becoming poor. No-one knew what caused his death. She had three children, and only one made it too childhood. Her daughter is a sickly girl, and Emmeline fears she will suffer the same fate as her father. Unable to live in her previous home because of bad memories, she came to Court in hopes of a live that wasn't filled with grief.
Picture:

On her wedding:
http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a352/Yoda_Rocks2004/Padme%20photos/natalie_portman.jpg


Now:
http://i41.photobucket.com/albums/e279/annelise_w_30/fc81e3f3.jpg

[Haylifer]

((Finally I'll make a post! I'm not promising anything great, my muses have taken ill or something :P Hello new characters, you all look awesome, and welcome back GeeWay!))

I'd been working for around fourty minutes now, a record high for me no doubt. Looking down at the parchment before me, only one name had been messily scratched in. My prowess in writing was as poor as ever, but that didn't matter right now. Princess Adalita had been poisoned by her ex-lover, who had contacts inside this castle. And I, being the only courtier foolhardy enough to discover this fact, now bore the task of stumbling across the traitor in question. Why did I not explain calmly that these things only happen to me by chance, that it's not my fault I'm so good at these things? The sooner all this.. drama.. was out of the way, the sooner I could hit the town once again for some Felix-style indulgence. I absent-mindedly chewed on the end of the peacock feather quill as I imagined merry scenes of beautiful women, good weather and plenty of real food instead of this Palace cuisine, which was far too rich for my liking.. A few strands of feather pulled off in my mouth and stuck to my throat, causing me to cough and splutter them all over the incriminating parchment. Oh blast it, why am I bothering with this? I scrunched the thick parchment into a ball and tossed it onto the fire, watching as it turned the suspects name to cinders. If only things were that easy. And surely there was a better person for the job than me; just because I was popular and nosy did not make me a private investigator by any means. I forced myself to stand - this idle musing was no way to work; I'd be here a lifetime if I didn't leave my room and do some proper searching.

But I needed a herring, a starting point or something. William must have had correspondance with the traitor, so there might be a chance someone had seen the two talking. Or at the very least, seen letters signed from William or noticed a servants marked absence from court. I needed a witness.

"Pierre?" I called, clicking my fingers to summon him from the shadows, or sewers, or wherever he lurked in his spare time. I explained the mission to Pierre, watching his beady black eyes flicker about. Anyone else would probably have found this suspicious behaviour; after all, Pierre was a servant inside the palace. But the man always acted like this, so I discarded it as nothing. Anyway, the man didn't even have access to Adalia's quarters, or so I hoped.

"I need you to find out who did it. Interrogate some of the Princess's servants maybe, I'm sure you'd only have to ask them if they knew of anyone named William. They can't be that intelligent, they're only servant girls after all."

"How does my Duc suggest I find these.. servant girls?" drawled Pierre, that irritating undertone of contempt in his voice as usual.

The man had a point. He couldn't lurk around the women's chambers like some silent predator, nor could he corner them anywhere near the Princess's suite. There was only one thing for it; I'd have to do it myself. Let's just say I wasn't an uncommon face around the servant girls boudoirs, and nobody would bat an eyelid if they saw me slip through the bedroom doors. Or rather, they'd bat their eyelids a lot more if I paid them a sneaky midnight visit tonight. And in the meanwhile I could be writing a letter to Monsieur Thenarde, the landlord of the local inn who knew everything about everybody's business. But I hadn't had the chance to even ink my peacock quill when a message arrived from Isabella, summoning me to her Salon.

I put the quill back down, partly thankful for the distraction as I left the room and headed over to the staircase. By some good chance, a chunky old maid happened to be bustling past me - a woman whom I was certain I'd seen before, though I couldn't remember where. Hopefully my deja vu was caused by seeing her plumping Adalita's pillows, or something of the like. I whistled as she bent down to pick up a pile of laundry; the comely lady blushed scarlet and scowled at me as she straightened herself up.

"Well well, Little Felix. Cheeky as ever, I see. But my you haven't half grown!"

I furrowed my brow at being called 'Little Felix' by some common maid, and was about to ask which girl had started that little joke when.. my mouth fell open in realisation.

"Nanny?" I gasped, as my childhood nurse scuttled towards me to pinch at my lack of fat and fuss over the state of my hair. "What are you doing back at the Palace? Ow!" I dodged a spit wet palm as she made an attempt to flatten my hair back into place.

"Shush, my duck. Look at the state of you, no wonder you haven't married and spawned your own wee ones yet. Now, Silvius on the other hand.. Hold still!"

"Nanny!"

"Oh very well. I came back here last month, my duck, because Nanny was to be needed again. She was told that someone was expecting a babby.."

I nodded enthusiastically. "That's right, that was the Princess. But then-"

"Yes my lad, let Nanny finish. When I finally get here - and travelling isn't good for a woman of my age - the wee royal ladything has taken terribly ill. So seeing as there's no babby to look after, they want me to care for the Princess in her state of delirious illness, God bless her." She paused, eyeing my waist "Are they feeding you properly around here? All skin and bone, you are. I've seen more fat on a-"

"I'm fit as a fiddle, Nanny, I swear. You're taking care of Adalita now?" I asked urgently. As delightful as the reunion with the fussy old goose was, there was no time to let her ramble on as I knew she would.

"That's what I just said, duckie, were you not listening? Twenty-four hours a day, I am. And to think, a woman of my age working so hard when I was hoping for a nice retirement to the country.."

Before the old woman could ramble on any more, I blurted it out. About Princess Adalita, about the traitor in our midst, and about how I had to find who it was. I told her about everything, all these little secrets that had been building up with no way of escaping. It was something of a relief to talk openly to someone I completely trusted, who would listen to me and console me about my worries. As I went into detail about that night in the inn when I overheard the plot, Nanny became a shade paler with each detail. I finished, and there was a moments silence as she thought over what I'd just said. Then, she erupted.

"Felix Peitou-Charentes, what in the Lord's name were you doing in such a.. notorious place? Monsieur Thenarde's Inn? Did you not have more sense? Duc or not, that inn is a.. a.. scum pit filled with social outcasts! Sailors, theives and criminals! What would your mother think, God rest her soul? Oh what would she think? And Nanny wasn't there stop you.. Oh dear.." For the second time, her wide face was now a deep red, and she was breathing heavily. I pouted in retaliation to the attack.

"Monsieur Thenarde's inn provides some excellent company.. I haven't got time, Nanny! Did you not see anything suspicious when you arrived here? Anything at all?" Nanny appeared to ponder the idea for a few seconds, struggling to remember back to last month.

"There was one girl serving the princess. Pretty little thing, she was.. but silent as a nun. We all thought she was deaf, we did. And there was something very odd about her, very.. unbecoming. She needed a good feed, too. And she'd disappear every few days, we all said she was part of some secret heretical cult. And thinking that, nobody really wanted to get too close to her.." Nanny's eyes glazed over again as she became lost in her senile thoughts. "What was I saying, my duck?"

"Is she still there? Let's go to the Princess's room right away, I need to speak to her."

"Is who still there, my duck? You can't speak to the Princess, lad.. or you won't get an answer if you try. Nanny has tried a few times. Dumb as an old donkey." The old lady started humming as she folded the sheets back into piles. "And Her Majester the lovely Queen was visiting her, last I saw. Though my eyes aren't what they used to be-"

"The Queen! Mon Dieu, Nanny, I was supposed to be going to see the Queen!" I quickly kissed the old woman on her whiskery cheek, and ran up the stairs as the cries of 'language, my duck!' faded behind me.

((Oh.. my.. God. Oops. Is this what's been pent up inside me for two weeks? A freaking NOVEL? I think I've had a case of creative constipation :blink: This is an absurdly long post, I've inadvertantly created a new NPC, and all to say 'Felix got up and went to see the Queen (who will not be there when he arrives, because he was late)'))

[Seiza]

((Good to have you, GeeWay! It's a good thing Dimitri isn't very misogynistic-- there are more women candidates for advisor than men! XD ...Though Felix must be happy. :P))
_______


“I'm Comtesse Marie-Elisabeth Valois.”

The name rung a bell that her appearance had not—Dimitri recognised the Valois name immediately, if not intimately.

“I did indeed arrive just this very afternoon. It took me longer than I expected to depart from home since my young son was most distraught at my leaving. He's become very attached to me as of late, so I do hope I haven't offended anyone with my lateness or missed anything of importance.”

Dimitri chuckled. “Young sons are like that. Some never quite detach themselves from their mothers’ skirts.”

The Comtesse did not seem to recognise him yet. Indeed, she must think him rather brazen to make such light remarks over her own son, even if her upbringing stopped her from showing much displeasure.

“Pardon me, Comtesse de Valois, for not introducing myself more precisely. I am a friend of your late husband’s. We fought together in the War against those bothersome English, some thirty years ago.” She did not look as if she had even been born then! Charles certainly liked his wives young. Dimitri himself never saw much worth in a wife of such a prattling-prone age. Women in that age group tended to so much silliness, he felt the advantages of retaining such young wives fell sharply below the problems of keeping them fed, clothed and happy.

“I also had the honour and sorrow of attending his funeral.”

Comte de Valois hadn’t been quite a mentor to Dimitri, but he had been the sort of man other men liked to gather around and make merry with. The funeral had been galling to watch—it was as if he was watching his generation slowly fall away, like dried leaves in autumn, to be forgotten and replaced by spring’s younger, brighter, more ignorant generation.

After a suitable pause in respect of the Comte’s memory, Dimitri inquired, “Never did I predict to meet his dear wife in these very walls! What brings you to the Palace, my lady?”

[Slytherin-Girl]

“Ahhhh, I knew I recognized you from somewhere Duc d’Lorraine, I do try my best not to forget a face. Charles did know ever so many people so I do hope you will forgive me for not recognizing you sooner. Especially seeing that you fought with my husband against those dreadful English. He was always so proud of his service and he loved to tell our son stories about it. I’m sure he would have been honoured to know an old war friend came to pay his final respects”.

Marie-Elisabeth paused slightly, both out of respect for her husband’s memory and in slight embarrassment. In truth she was feeling rather ashamed that she had somehow forgotten him and hoped he wasn’t offended by it.

“And as for Charles, I suppose he’s so attached to me because of his father’s death. I’m really the only family he’s got left because” she stopped for a second and lowered her voice “My stepdaughters have rather delicate sensibilities, and they live in our country chateau for their health. It’s such a shame that Charles can’t be closer to them, but it’s better for him and for his education to be around here”.

She then stopped speaking, aware that she was rambling on which she had a tendency to do when her son was involved. “But enough about that, my goodness no wonder Charles called me his little rambler. I haven’t even answered your question yet! I’m really here to get a new start on life I suppose” she said, looking thoughtful “Not that I didn’t care for Charles, but someone like him wouldn’t want anyone to wallow in their grief for very long. He’s probably upset with me for not coming sooner actually”.

OOC: My English ancestors are probably ticked at me now! :P Though my French ones and probably happy. And she wouldn’t be born for another 10years after that, she’s just a young thing!

[Ghanima Atreides]

Joséphine, César and family - Arriving at the Palace

Showered in brilliant sunlight, an ornate carriage pulled by two mares whose silky manes had been combed to a healthy sheen made its way steadily through the wintry landscape surrounding the road which lead to the magnificent gates of The Palace of Light and Air. Dwarfed in size and splendour, another carriage followed suit, laden it seemed with coffers and wrapped bundles, watched over by silent men and women dressed in low class garments: no doubt the servants belonging to whomever rode at the front of the convoy.

The travellers were Marquis César de la Vallière, his wife Joséphine and their two daughters, Adèle and Angélique, bound for the royal court of Edouard Rotherham IV, each of their hearts filled with new-found emotions and anxiousness.

Seated vis-a-vis her husband, Joséphine appeared positively tiny, surrounded by the wide hem of her crinoline gown, fanned all round her in many folds. Her complicate coiffure had survived the trip heroically, lush chocolate brown ringlets curling around the Marquise's thin, oval face. An opened book rested on her lap, one page caught loosely between her thumb and index finger as she read.

Or rather pretended to; as much as she struggled to concentrate on the words, Joséphine's thoughts invariably wandered to other things: the visit to the court, César, seeing Octavien after the....incident, all the acquaintances waiting to be made...a chill of anticipation and fear alike crept along the length of her spine, which she was quick to conceal with a casual stretch of her back as she positioned herself more comfortably in her seat. She could foresee a big change in their future, but would it be for the better?

At her side sat tiny Angélique who, despite her mother's admonishments, shuffled and fussed; the long trip was beginning to take its toll on the toddler's patience. Her sister, a year older, was rather better behaved, but enthusiastic anticipation had both girls in its grip: it was their first time away from home, and despite now quite understanding what a Royal Court represented, they knew they were travelling towards a special place. As she brushed a hand through Angélique's hair, Joséphine spared a grateful thought to the fact that the girl was finally out of her diapers and did not run the risk of soiling the elegant clothes she was wearing for the occasion.

The Marquise wished for a flawless introduction into the Palace of Light and Air, the beginning of a new life for her and César.

César...peering at him from beneath her eyelids, a subtle smile emerged on Joséphine's rouged lips: he had anticipated the visit more than any of them, the opportunity to see his old friend again and make his first official appearance at the court, together with his family. She knew part of why he had agreed to bring their two daughters was a prideful thing, but also an emotional one, and the thought warmed her; César loved the girls and did not reproach her for not giving him a son instead.

The thought of a son, an heir to the title of Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan, wiped the smile off Joséphine's lips: six years had elapsed since their marriage, and her only two pregnancies had produced daughters instead, something her mother-in-law never missed the opportunity to point out, accompanied by a severe glance, as if she, Joséphine was to blame. As if she could choose.

Suppressing a sigh, the Marquise banished that particular thought from her mind; that day was meant for enjoyment, not worry.

“Ah, Monsieur Molière's words simply refuse to captivate me today” Joséphine said with a coy smile and finally closed the book, venturing half a grin at her husband. She felt most at ease when she and César were alone together, it was in the proximity of other women that he troubled her, knowing that any of them could end up sharing his bed that night. When he was with her though he suddenly became the young man she had fallen in love with years before when she was still an innocent girl with a head full of idealized dreams.

Just then, the landscape visible through the carriage windows changed, slowly revealing their destination from between two sloping hillsides: a magnificently vast building, surrounded by ample gardens and gilded fences. Adèle and Angélique gave an excited cry and began fighting for the best view their small statures could provide. As she shushed them, Joséphine could not help but laugh softly at this honest, childlike expression of carefree joy and cradled each child with her arms.

“Thank you,” the Marquise told César warmly. “For allowing them to join us. I've rarely seen them so happy.”

((ooc: I hope I did this ok. I'm still getting used to this.))

[AtropaMandragora]

(((ooc: Ghanima - It was a splendid firt post. :) )))


It was a beautiful winter day afternoon. The landscape that passed by outside the window of the four-seated berlin coach the small family was travelling in, seemed almost radiant. Luminous sunlight reflected in the thin layer of lily white coating the trees and bushes, and the sky - what little César could see of it - was a bright, cloudless blue. The snow on the ground muffled the sound of the carriages and the trotting horses, and allowed peace and serenity to descend on each member of the travelling party. On the surface.
Inwardly there stirred an anticipation that while easily controlled by some, left others almost unable to sit still. Mainly the little two year old girl, Angélique, who seemed unable to decide whether she wanted to sit up close next to her mother, play on the floor of the carriage, or try to peek out the window in the hopes that for once there would be something besides trees to look at. Though her father, despite looking calm and relaxed with his head resting casually back against the seat, felt he was starting to grow equally stir-crazy. He was a restless young man, who would usually prefer days on the back of a horse over a few hours cooped up in a carriage. He simply didn't have the patience for it. But, it would hardly be becoming of a Marquis to arrive at court, riding by himself next to his magnificent berlin coach, on which he had spent a small fortune.

Good thing then, that he was not travelling alone, but along with his pretty wife, whose company he tended to enjoy immensly. Unlike most young women born into wealthy families, she was not a goose, and had more ambition and intelligence in her pinky finger than most of her peers would ever have in their entire body. Their idea of success was marrying into even more wealth, pop out a few babies, and then waste the rest of their days gossiping and spending their husband's money.
Joséphine on the other hand, took pleasure in challenging her mind, as well as César's. She wasn't afraid to show that she was not just an adornment on her husband's arm, and the producer of his heir (once their future son came along), but rather a highly skilled and witty conversationalist, and at the same time a demure young lady whose company one would find most pleasant, regardless of background, age and gender.
César probably didn't tell her often enough, but he was proud of her. As was he of the two beautiful daughters she had given him. They made quite a pretty picture, the four of them, and he was well aware that on more than one occasion, they had been the target of turned heads and jealous stares. Not least by his main mistress. A green-eyed beauty, in the double sense of the word, Athénaïs had at times attended parties where she knew César would bring his little family. Just to get a glimpse of her rival; Joséphine, César's wife, the woman she was trying to outmanoeuvre. Little did she know that even if César would consider ridding himself of Joséphine - a thought nothing short of alien to him - it would hardly be in favour of Athénaïs. While she too was a beautiful woman with the kind of sharp intellect that César appreciated, she was far more prone to throwing tantrums and sulking like one of his daughters when she didn't get her way. And she was greedy, and her favorite topic to talk about was herself. Which would eventually bore César; something he rarely experienced with Joséphine.

However, there were only so many hours one could fill with conversation before the topics started to return to ones already discussed, and it all became rather repetitive, and so for a while now, they had travelled mostly in silence, only occasionally breaking it when either of the girls demanded attention. Joséphine had lost herself in one of her many books - or so César thought - and he himself had rested his head back against the seat and watched the landscape that pulled away from him, as he was seated with his back to the direction in which they were travelling. He was watching the woods and the fields, assessing them with the eyes of a knowledgable landowner, and a hunter. From what he could see, it was a most beautiful province, with billowing slopes and vast plains and forests, and the game he saw was rich in numbers as well as in species. Even if the court turned out to be dull - which he highly doubted - the region in which it was located would have much to offer a man of César's preferences, qualities and abilities.

"Ah", came Joséphine's pleasanty soft voice suddenly in a slight sigh from the seat opposite of his, and he turned his head to look at her, only to be met by one of her small and endearing smiles. "Monsieur Molière's words simply refuse to captivate me today."

The book in her delicate hands closed, and she looked at him as though she knew he would take it as his cue to make some clever remark to amuse her, and perhaps get another session of their playful bickering started. For while she enjoyed the writings of Molière, César would often insist that the man was hopelessly pretentious, and his views on a woman's capacity far too optimistic. Though in truth, he enjoyed Moliere's work as much as she did, and only critized it like he did, to see her temper flare. And she knew it.

This time, however, he would not get a chance to try. The thrilled outcries of their two daughters stole his attention away from her, and a soft chuckle passed through his lips as he watched them struggle to get a better view of what could only be the Palace. César himself, with his back towards the direction they were looking, could not see it, but there was little else that would get them so excited.
Their mother too seemed to be amused by their antics, laughing softly as she tried to calm them and keep them from hurting one another - accidently or not - in their fight over the best position.

"Thank you," she said and looked at César with a warm smile gracing her lips. "For allowing them to join us. I've rarely seen them so happy."

It was a smile that was returned by one of his own dazzling ones, which then turned genuinly affectionate when his gaze landed on the two girl once again. Unable to keep from adding to their high spirits, like the jovial and loving father he was, he quickly snatched one of the daughters away from her mother's arms; Adèle, who happened to be closest to him at the time. With her giggle intermingling with his own soft laugh, he pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her, to keep her from falling down. Or escaping.

"How could I not?" he said and looked at Joséphine with a widened smile. "I couldn't imagine going without them. Why, without their angelic little voices constantly ringing in my ears, I might've thought I'd gone deaf!"

With that, he planted a kiss loudly on Adèle's cheek, before inching closer to the window and allowing her as good a view of the Palace as her younger sister had, without having to fight her for it.

"Well then", he said, and looked at his young wife once again, still with a humorous smile playing on his lips. "In minutes we shall be setting foot on Palace grounds. To be perfectly honest, I think I dread the moment. If it turns out the rumours are true, and Octavien has indeed gone and made himself Prince of the kingdom, I will never hear the end of it, for as long as I live."

Indeed, it would be a brand new experience, for César, the Marquis, to have to bow and address his friend in a submissive manner. Octavien, who had always been far beneath him in rank, and recieved quite a few playful gibes over the years because of it. If the rumours were true, César would surely be made to eat his words.

[Seiza]

((Fabulous, Ghanima, simply fab. ;) A shame Josephine is just a visitor, but I guess married women couldn't hold such positions that the time.))
_______


If he could get a word in, the Duc would have agreed that a boy’s education shouldn’t be thwarted in any way. It was imperative for the young Charles, who would be seating at his father’s table, signing documents with his father’s stamp, negotiating with his father’s friends and enemies; and all, most likely, as soon as he came of age to do so.

Such a future was a horrific vision to Dimitri, whose youth had been spent in adventure, who hadn’t begun running his own until well into his mid-thirties.

But the Comtesse marched on, “But enough about that, my goodness no wonder Charles called me his little rambler. I haven’t even answered your question yet!”

“Pardon me for not denying the truthfulness of that statement,” he said wryly, but not unkindly. He did believe in the right of every parent to wear their mouths off talking about their children, and the burden of everyone else’s ears to be worn off listening to it.

“I’m really here to get a new start on life I suppose...”

“Ah, there is truth in your words as well,” he murmured. “Then allow this old man to offer you some advice, Comtesse. This is not the ideal time to start your new life in the Palace of Light and Air. The King still searches for a new Advisor to fill the—admittedly substantial—shoes of the late Duc d’Mollier. You must have heard, the search began some time ago.”

And even if she did not, all the more reason to know now. When competition began in the court—for the best horses, the most elaborate dresses, the King’s ear—everyone knew the end could only be ugly. And so courtiers powdered their noses and hair, and buried themselves in ribbons and breeches; to hide the ugliness that had so twisted them. Dimitri lifted a hand to his own scars: he could wear them with pride, knowing they had been collected outside this turgid court.

There were other dangers... but it was not the Duc’s place to babysit the courtiers. He thought himself being unduly kind already. Perhaps it was his history with the former Comte de Valois, or the knowledge of a young boy awaiting his mother’s return; perhaps something about that was making him kinder to this young woman today.

“It was the right decision, not to bring your child along. But I would suggest arming yourself with more than a fan.”

[Slytherin-Girl]

“Pardon me for not denying the truthfulness of that statement,” the Duc said, and Marie-Elisabeth had to force down a blush. She raised her fan and fluttered it in front of her face to cover her embarassment.

She knew full well rambling on was a very bad habit of hers, and something Charles had commented on quite often. But he had tended to enjoy listening to her prattle on, the the nickname was more an affectionate one than a serious admonishment.

Marie-Elisabeth was rather startled to realize she could feel tears gathering in her eyes, and rapidly blinked and fluttered her fan again to make them go away. "This is ridiculous. Charles has been dead for 2 years, where on earth is this coming from" she thought, sincerely hoping he didn't notice.

Anyone who had ever seen her with her husband would have known they didn't have a true love match. She had been a 13 year old bride to a 52 year old man, which certainly wasn't condusive to the kind of romantic love she had thought about while she was young. But Charles had adored her and given her anything she could have wanted, even more so after their son's birth. Marie-Elisabeth had loved him in her own way, just not the same way he cared for her. Despite how she had grown to care for him during their marriage, that didn't change her resentment of being married off to a man whose daughters were scarcely younger than her.

She was relieved when the Duc changed the subject to something that didn't have anything to do with her late husband, because the conversation was making her think about things she'd rather not dwell upon.

"You're quite right Duc d'Lorraine. The court is definately not a place one wants to bring one's children" she said, her free hand reflexively touching the locket at her throat. "And The King is looking for a new advisor? Well that is certainly intestesting news. But I hardly think that warrants me having to arm myself with anything. I'm certain his Royal Highness is looking for an experienced, more wordly man for the position, not a young woman like me".

Marie-Elisabeth sighed inwardly, not showing any displeasure at the statement on her face. As wise as the King might have been, men who wanted to listen to the council of women were few and far between, so she was certain her statement had to be true.


********************


OOC: That's why I made Marie-Elisabeth the way I did, so she could have a position :) And I have NO idea where this post came from, I think the little Comtesse was standing behind me and thwacking me with a fan to make me write LOL

[GeeWayrocks]

The carriage made slow progress acorss the icy ground. The horses pulling it were unsettled, and the driver had no wish to wake the young child sleeping in the carriage. His mistress was a kind woman, but when it came to her daughter, she would protect her with her life. Inside the carriage, the said woman was looking out the window. Everything was coated with a fine layer of white. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, but the woman's chocolate brown eyes were fixed on the Palace they were inching towards. It was there she hoped to have a future for herself. She looked at her young daughter, who was lying beside her, her chest rising and falling slowly. Smiling at the sleeping child, she brushed some of her dark brown curls off her forehead. The child had her mother's eyes and hair, but her father's features. Turning her attention away from the sleeping child, she began to adjust her deep blue silk dress. After another ten minutes, the carriage stopped. Gently shaking Arielé awake, Emmeline stepped out of the carriage, before helping her daughter down. Arielé's eyes took in the sight of the Palace, and excitement shone in her eyes. She began to jabber excitedly, and Emmeline shushed her. The carrige carrying their belongings pulled up behind them. Making sure her daughter was presentable, she took her hand and started towards the Palace.

{{OOC: Hope it's ok, haven't RPed here in a while}}

[SpoonerismII]

((OOC: Umm, I was just wondering if a late application could possibly be accepted... If so, which titles are available?))

[Haylifer]

((I want to do a new character. As well as Felix, of course. But I don't want to, because I'm an unreliable sod and I'll spam up the place with dead unposting characters. And also I no longer meet the requirements for bi-character-control xD But if I was to introduce one, I'm split between Nanny and another male.. just thought I'd post my idle ramblings))

((EDIT: :smash: Teh excess of OOC posting!))

[SpoonerismII]

((Heavens to Betsey! A new man will soon be coming this way. :D))

[Ghanima Atreides]

César, Joséphine and family arriving at the Palace

As Joséphine observed her husband's interactions with their two daughters, a pleasantly warm sensation filled her soul, her head tilted slightly to the left to better take in the tableau unfolding before her. She almost regretted their imminent arrival, wanting to delay the moment when they would all be required to leave behind the comfort and intimacy of their coach, breaking that rare moment of perfect family closeness.

"How could I not?" César replied with one of his characteristically dazzling smiles blooming on his lips, "I couldn't imagine going without them. Why, without their angelic little voices constantly ringing in my ears, I might've thought I'd gone deaf!"

Being balanced on her father's knees, little Adèle giggled happily, extending her chubby little hands across the coach towards Joséphine, who patiently indulged her and squeezed them affectionately.

“They are quite...vocal, arent't they?” the Marquise agreed and laughed lightly. “If that doesn't change later on, I fear for their future husbands' ears.”

With that, Joséphine leaned forward and planted a brief kiss on Adèle's forehead, her eyes falling briefly on the same level as César's; she lingered there for a moment, suspended in motion, pondering the sudden desire to kiss him. They had but moments left before they passed through the Palace's gilded gates and an entire day ahead before the chance of finding herself alone with him would present itself. The Marquise however noted the spark of building anticipation grow brighter in César's eyes and refrained; too many thoughts concerning the court and Octavien filled his mind, and the gesture might be lost.

"Well then. In minutes we shall be setting foot on Palace grounds. To be perfectly honest, I think I dread the moment. If it turns out the rumours are true, and Octavien has indeed gone and made himself Prince of the kingdom, I will never hear the end of it, for as long as I live."

Having invested a good part of her self discipline into postponing the moment she would have to tackle the matter of Octavien, the sound of his name brought the faintest blush to Joséphine's cheeks. She could feel her heart throbbing a little faster beneath the tight corset fastened over her chest; all the anger she had felt towards César then had all but evaporated in the warmth of his recent behaviour, implanting the thorn of guilt deeply in her mind. And yet she could not help but wonder whether even a fraction of guilt or second thoughts had ever seeped intoCésar's thoughts when he looked at other women with lust and shared their beds. Or if he ever spared her a thought at all, if he cared about the way his infidelity made her feel. It was as if being a woman meant her feelings were not considered to be just as powerful, that she should somehow be able to ignore her husband's adultery.

She could not.

This internal battle consumed Joséphine from within like a malignant illness. There were times that she felt the luckiest, happiest woman in the world and others that she could not have been more wretched; her mind longed to find acceptance and at the same time her soul refused it, fanning the fires that burned always deep beneath her demure exterior, a fire so hot that should it blaze out of control it could consume her, as it almost had a few months prior to that day. Her secret, and the source of her present anxiety, which she carefully concealed as the expected anxiousness of a young Marquise who had never set foot in a Royal Court before.

“I sometimes find it odd, the way fate seems to toy with us all” Josephine replied, caught in one of her numerous philosophical moments. “Who would have expected Octavien Lahance to rise to the rank of Prince, and yet that is the rumour on everyone's lips. I think it ultimately proves we can never be certain of anything in life.”

Suddenly, their view shifted once more as the coach we being slowly maneuvered down the gravel path leading through the opened gates of the Palace of Light and Air, flanked by a small contingent of armed guards. Since their arrival had been announced, they made no move to prevent the coach from passing through.

“I'm sorry,” the Marquise apologised, a slight smile accompanying her words. “It must be all the excitement that has overworked my mind today. Now let us see if the rumours are true, and if they are I have no doubts you are right and he will ensure you're reminded of it for some time to come. But my dear husband, wouldn't you do the same?” she added with the kind of playful bluntness she only permitted herself when they were either alone or in the presence of friends. Joséphine would never intentionally embarass her husband, but those who knew her were accustomed to her remarks.

Much to Joséphine's satisfaction, their arrival had not gone unnoticed. Within moments, those courtiers and visitors who had been strolling nearby gathered in clusters along the edge of the path, whispering amongst eachother, curiosity and occasionally awed appreciation visible on their faces. While the second carriage, laden with luggage and a few servants was diverted down an adjacent path towards one of the palace's service entrance, César and Joséphine's soon came to a fluid halt just beneath two large trees coated in frost and snow.

The Marquis himself was the first to descend, landing firmly on his feet with the effortless grace of a man accustomed to riding and hunting. He then extended a supporting arm to Joséphine, who took it gracefully and, minding the long hem of her dress, followed. She then turned to lift each of the two girls up from under their arms, placing them carefully on the ground with them. At last, the de la Vallière family stood before the magnificent palace, taking in their surroundings with wide eyes. Even though stripped by the season of their beauty, the gardens still inspired a feeling of awe, although nothing compared to the vast architectural gem that was the Palace itself. Joséphine could only imagine the splendor awaiting between those gleaming white walls.

Arm in arm, each holding the hand of one of their daughters, César and Joséphine were on their way towards the stairs leading up to the main entrance, nodding left and right to passers-by and being greeted in return. The crisp air was refreshing after being cooped up inside the coach for an entire day, clearing Joséphine's mind though doing little to still the rapid beats of her heart.

All of a sudden, haloed by the bright sunlight streaming from behind, a familiar figure emerged from around the edge of a leafless hedge, walking jauntily to meet them.

((ooc: Thank you Seiza and Atropa :D

Also: I know it's confusing since I didn't name him, but the person approaching them would be Octavien. Atropa and I have discussed it.))

[Seiza]

((Looking forward to your male addition to our court, Spoon! :howdy:

Wow, it's getting crowded at the Main Hall~))
______


“...I'm certain his Royal Highness is looking for an experienced, more worldly man for the position, not a young woman like me,” Comtesse de Valois sighed with a sentiment almost, one might say, bordering displeasure at the idea.

Dimitri did not want to dangle hope before her like some useless trinket, nor did he want to appear hypocritical. He himself particularly loathed offering Mollier’s position to anyone below thirty. But demographic realities were forcing him to admit Edouard looked, more and more likely, to be gaining an Advisor younger than himself, in age and experience. It was laughable, but so were life’s greatest tragedies.

Perhaps it was precisely that age and experience, and the wisdom thereafter, kept his own generation away from the Palace.

And so, with a smile that came more from biting into something sour and bravely trooping on, rather than any real approval; the Duc grudgingly admitted, “I would not say that just yet. The King seems quite open to having more... youthful energy in his government. You will understand once you have further acquainted yourself with our court.”

But would she even try? He watched her expression subtly, curious at the change this new information might bring. Many were the courtiers who arrived at the Palace specifically with their eyes on the position—yet the Comtesse was only here to “restart” her life, whatever that entailed. Would she be drawn into the fray nevertheless, carpeting the path upon which her fellow courtiers would tread on their way to the top?

The activity surrounding them was picking up, had been so for a while. Maids and footmen were lining up at the Palace’s entrance; a layer of muted, excited, indecipherable chatter floated like a fog above their heads. It did not rise above the sombre sorrow that permeated the days since the Princess’ illness—it did not dare—but arrivals always brought that spark to the staff eyes. Someone was coming—maybe even several ‘someone’s, judging by the increased number of servants gathering.

The Duc d’Lorraine and the Comtesse de Valois stood almost at the centre of the main hallway, almost like a welcoming pair receiving their guests in their abode. It was audacious, and hilarious, and Dimtri would have none of it. But just as he was about to offer his arm to the Comtesse to move both of them to the side, the doors swung open and the new arrivals were announced.

[Slytherin-Girl]

(((OOC: I'm going to be away for the weekend, so could you just Have Marie-Elisabeth leave? I trust you'll do fine with that Seiza, you seem to have a good handle on her :) )))

“Oh really, well that is certainly interesting news” she said, looking obviously interested in the news. Of course she kept most of the obvious excitement out of her expression but she couldn’t help a tiny smirk from making its’ way onto her face.

It was doubly interesting that the King was actually considering having a woman as his adviser. Something like that would certainly be a great opportunity, and Marie-Elisabeth could only imagine what kind of privileges would be offered to the adviser of the King. She made up her mind to pay more attention to the talk going around the palace, to see what she could find out about this interesting turn of events.

She had only intended to start her life anew, but could only dream of what kind of life would be had if she gained the apparently much coveted position. But the new arrivals were announced and that put an end to her musings. “Perhaps Duc dLorraine, it would be a good idea to continue our conversation at a later time. It appears to be getting quite crowded in the hall here and it would probably be best if we made ourselves scarce”.

Marie-Elisabeth curtseyed, smiled at him and said “I have so enjoyed talking to you though, I’m very glad I met you. I’ll have to mention you in my letter to my son, no doubt Charles mentioned you to him. He’ll probably be thrilled to hear I made your acquaintance”.

[Seiza]

At the announcement, such a number of maids’ bodies bent sideways, leaning forward in greeting and expectation, that even Dimitri and the Comtesse were obscured from view. They immediately took this chance to bid their goodbyes.

“It has been a pleasure,” he simply said, watching her and her fan slide quietly into the depths of the palace.

He was tempted to follow her escape—greetings and welcomes were not his reasons to be here—but, Dimitri reminded himself, it was something of his duty to acquaint himself with all the courtiers in this palace. With the inactivity of the royal family, and the royal staff so clearly overwhelmed by more important matters; none was present to greet the newcomers. The servants assembled fidgeted like mice, working under no direction but depending on habit and long years of servitude.

He froze their twitching with a look; cut their murmuring tongues with a wave.

This unpreparedness was too obvious, utterly ill-fitting for the court of a King in any circumstance. It was a cruel thought, and he knew it; but Dimitri would have to talk with Edouard at some point...

He stilled his thoughts as the first arrivals entered.

______

((slytherin-girl: Done! :)

GeeWay, I wasn't sure if I should've moved Emmeline into the palace, so I leave it to you. Dimitri will just be standing there looking scary or sombre or something until any of the new arrivals step into the palace. :P))

[Fayreview]

Mercy saw carriages pulling up the drive, she fought inwardly over her instinct to be nosey.... Hmm well I do need to get inside before my skin darkens any further, It was not proper to have a dark complection for it would suggest she had need to do things for herself. She sighed social rules were so dull! She got up and wondered back towards the castle, the servants seemed to be in a complete panic about the new guests. She was getting almost Impatient enough to open the heavy front doors herself, when thankfully Josephe from earlier noticed her. She smiled brightly at him as he opened the door, If she was better titled she'd approach the group of people wandering about but a Baroness would not.

She wondered about where she should go next, and why her highness was not here greating these new guests, when she saw much to her delight that Dimitri was holding down the fort. She gave a well placed bow, "good day Duc" she smiled at him. They were in public so 'Duc' would have to do, she knew he was busy so she stayed at a reasonable distance, in case anyone desired the direction of a female as opposed to Dimitri who she imagined would appear quite intimidating to those of weaker spirit.

She distracted a more important servant to make sure rooms were made up for the impending visitors and to assertain directions so she could be as helpful as possible. She tried a warm smile, but couldn't help feeling herself drawn ever so slightly closer to Dimitri she wasn't sure what it was but she fought it and hed her distance, she did not want to look inproper afterall!

[GeeWayrocks]

{{OOC: You can move her anywhere. I don't mind some Godmodding. So long as it's not serious stuff. Moving from room to room or something like that is fine}}

Emmeline and Arielé walked through the doors into what appeared to be the main hall. It was crowded, and Emmeline felt Arielé's hand slip out of hers, as she retreated behind her. The child loved meeting new people, but the amount of people here overwhelmed her. She pulled her out from behind her and assured her everything was alright. Knowing that, she tried to slip off and explore, but Emmeline kept a firm grip on her hand. The palace was very large, and she was afraid of here getting lost. She'd take her with her when she was getting her own bearings. She took another few steps, and then paused, unsure of who to talk to, or introduce herself too.