Red String of Fate (IC) (OPEN) (Courting)

by **The Holy Solar Empire** » Mon Oct 11, 2021 10:55 am

The Poisoned

Eleanore had the time to look at the mess before her, she imagined that had she been able to see the chaos as it unraveled that she would have born witness to the most rambunctious sort of chaos one could only see in a bar full of drunk sailors. The fact that it was now all as calm as a daycare's nap time only proved to her the ability of her Knight, for he wouldn't be one to let such continue, especially so close to the ballroom. The sudden outburst from Aron was not too surprising to the duo, after all the concoction that was injected into him was gonna give a huge boost of adrenaline, but now that he was firmly awake, they could get to work.

"I'd say more about double that, I would have indulged the fight a bit more but my lady had required my assistance urgently." Leopold responded as Eleanore got up from her seat and slowly made her way to meet Aron, she nearly lost her fitting with one step, and for the briefest moment had felt weightless, although not by her sickness... still, she persevered, aided in walking with her cane she made her way to him.

"So you must be the Admiral that my good friend had shared a pint with, it is an honor to meet you." She said holding back a cough. "I apologize for my current appearance, it would appear that I have been poisoned."

Leopold quickly added to her comment. "To be specific, a laxative had gotten into the tea, and whatever it is, my lady is allergic to it." He looked at the booster in his hand. "I had wanted to use this booster to aid her, but she was adamant that I use it to bring you back to consciousness."

"Indeed, I hate to impose a request upon you so soon, but time is of the essence, the court photographer has been indited for the act, but I know that she is innocent in this plot."

"We are unsure if it was from incompetence or malice, but either way they have the wrong person in custody. And unfortunately we cannot tell if they are trying to cover the act up, are complicit, or otherwise out of the loop. My lady had shared a token of her trust with the court photographer, and had collected audio from at least two participants in the plot, the fact that this has not led to either of their questioning is unfortunately from our point of view, suspicious, thus in order to get to the bottom of this we seek support from people who have pull in the Kingdom, after all we are only guest."

"It is most unfortunate that I a suitor has taken to correcting these wrongs, but whatever plot has gripped this ball, I fear the consequences for it's success are most dire." Eleanore brought out her scroll, and with a single click, played some audio. "Are you familiar with this voice perhaps?"

"It's done." Melanie's voice clearly came out.

"Pardon me, Baroness, I just wanted to say a few things to Seraria." Sartana's followed suit.

"The later voice is another suitor named Sartana, I was initially sure she had a heavy hand in this, but now I am not too sure, and if my assumptions are correct may be a target in the eyes of this baroness." This time she couldn't hold back several coughs, Leopold gently placing a hand on her back until she stopped. "I am sure this is a lot to take in, but a plot is afoot and I will not allow it to affect the innocent, a snake is in our midst and she brings great peril unless stopped."

by **Scornerse** » Tue Oct 12, 2021 5:54 am

The Frozen Forest wrote:The Fjolla hit the ground hard and the crowd gathered around her collectively gasped. A young man appeared from the crowd and helped the Fjolla back to her feet, the gathered Torgeirists suddenly moving forwards onto either side to support their young priestess. "The White Lady asks us to forgive the ignorant, for they have not yet received her word. It would be unwise of me to betray my vows, so think no more of your clumsy mistake, you are absolved in her name." Fjolla Saskia brought her right hand to the corner of her left shoulder, tracing down with her finger to the center of her chest. "The White Lady protects The Frozen Forest and her people, and has done so since before the first settlers came from the old world. Her wisdom guides us, we who prosper here in this fertile land.

The White Lady welcomes all to listen to her word. You are the suitor Sartana, she who comes from Scornerse. She who wears the banner of a poised pit viper. She who has tamed those most fierce court ladies, who tell me of your graceful actions. The White Lady does not punish those with any eye for ambition, nay she prefers to reward them with the crowns of men. I am Fjolla Saskia, I speak on behalf of our patron god here in The Frozen Forest, and I lead the faithful here in Truvaria. I would ask you to speak with me in private."

The Fjolla brushed herself off, turned back to her flock and performed the motion of tracing her finger from her shoulder to her chest. "Go in grace my flock, for The White Lady is with you and grants you her blessings." The crowd began to disperse gradually, each member offering their own look of distaste towards the potential queen. "You'll have to forgive them, our faith has been persecuted for many years now and they are weary of those who bring harm such as you have done to me. I fear they may see you to be a tyrant, but that is not a view that I share." Saskia ventured towards the front of entrance of the ballroom, and gestured for Sartana to join her.

Sartana was happy to see Saskia's response to being floored was to lavish praise on her, exclaim her usefulness to Sartana and offer a private discussion. Apart from putting up a good fight and giving in when beaten, as Melonie did, immediate submission was another way to get into Sartana's good graces. She would certainly give Saskia an opportunity to make her case. Sartana was a pragmatist, she would do almost anything to secure herself the title of queen, as from there she could do far more good than any court niceties would entail. Which is also why she could care less if she doomed Seraria. What was the life of one commoner to the lives of other commoners she'd improve as queen, especially when that commoner had ample opportunity to bow to her will and thereby save herself? Not worth all that much. The battle for power and position was, unavoidably, a ruthless struggle.

The Frozen Forest wrote:
"I hope you'll reconsider that offer, m'lady. The devil oft prefers to speak tricks from the mouths of so called Torgeirists. Surely you are yourself a good Christian and can see through such lies." Sister Kaja had witnessed the interaction between Sartana and the Fjolla. While she didn't condone Sartana's obvious attempt to shame Saskia, Kaja knew what sort of game Saskia was playing, trying to talk the young suitor into supporting her faith and stomping the Catholic Church. Kaja wouldn't roll over and let that happen without a fight, and maybe Christ would allow Sartana to see sense in the situation.

Speaking struggles, just as Sartana intended to walk away for the private conversation that Saskia wanted, the nun Sartana observered earlier spoke up. Sartana had to be clever with this, she wanted to speak to the torgeirist, but being a Catholic, outside of even spiritual commitment, she couldn't be seen as forsaking the church for a pagan. A clever thought came to Sartana's mind before she turned around to address the nun.

"Do not worry, sister, I can see through lies. As Matthew, Mark and Luke attested, Jesus, too was tempted by the devil in his conversations with him, but by the strength of his faith, he was able to endure. If one's faith is as christ-like as it ought to be, there is no reason to fear being over taken by the temptations of Satan. Furthermore, though he may have used her, this woman is not Satan and can be saved. I would be amiss if I felt that my faith was so weak I'd flee the opportunity to show it's strength in her presence and perhaps, inspire her to abandon ungodly ways." Sartana said, hoping that she had successfully excused herself, before turning back to head off for a private conversation with Saskia.

As usual Sartana's mannerisms would be projecting a refusal to be intimidated and an intention to intimidate. If Saskia believed more in supporting a woman of ambition than one that simply pandered to her faith, Sartana was someone she'd do well to back.

by **A m e n r i a** » Mon Oct 18, 2021 8:39 am

Yali saw a younger woman approach them, and looked at her curiously before smiling and waving hello. However, she seemed to be in a hurry. So much so that she went on her merry way right after delivering a message to Arissa, perhaps something urgent judging from the Duchess' response. "That your sister? Is everything alright?" She then leaned back and addressed the earlier points. "So, that's all I gotta do? Honestly that ain't what I was thinking when you mentioned secularist. Back home the secularists are nutjobs causing trouble because crackpot conspiracy theories tells them to....No offence." She nodded. "Well, when do I start?"

by **The Saucer Pilots** » Wed Oct 20, 2021 7:58 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:
(Image)

Kornelia nodded affirmatively at the idea that she was on par with the King's suitors, and with that her vanity was worthily satisfied. Grimes had said enough to earn himself a dance from her, which was quite an honor if Kornelia could say so herself. To dance with a woman as beautiful or more beautiful than even those courting the King, well Grimes must feel honored. Kornelia had managed to close in on Grimes, nearly trapping the poor man against the balcony. "Are you one of those beaus?"

The sound of rapid footsteps filled the air and both Kornelia and Ymir craned their heads to look towards the entrance of the balcony. Before them stood a man that they knew well, and he looked to be in a hurry. The man regained his breath and stepped forwards until he stood in front of Ymir, before dropping onto one knee with head bent. "Master Ymir, I come with terrible news from your families estate. Words best shared in private I'm afraid."

Ymir blinked and then looked towards Grimes and Kornelia, then back to the servant. "We are alone, what sort of news do you bring." The man raised his head, considering Grimes carefully before answering. "Master, it would appear your father has collapsed from a suspected heart attack. The doctors are doing everything they can to resuscitate him, but until then you are the acting lord of Syrén family assets." Ymir felt his jaw go slack but quickly regained his composure. "Yes...I see...Well um..wake the rest of the household back at the estate and summon our workers from the largest mines, have them on standby. Father told me once that if anything like this happened that other families would try to swoop in and push us out. I want all of our lawyers working for the next twenty-four to monitor the other powerful families. Keep me informed about my father."

(Image)

A sound erupted down the hallway many hundreds of years ago, one of a myriad of noises all too loud for those cold and empty walls. Perhaps some innocent bystander reacted betise and distracted the wild beast, or perhaps it was just too slow after picking up the foreign scent. An ancient metal back to an ancient stone fireplace groaned and creaked and gave way, falling down flat in a wide open room. This room was distinctly modern, with a few scatted lights across the space, illuminating it. In the farthest part of the room was a single young woman wearing a innocent black and white uniform that suggested the profession of maid.

This maid turned at the sound of the now broken fireplace wall, saw a small white face peering at her from near darkness, and let out a blood-curdling scream.

Grimes:
The Special Agent got the distraction he wished for and soon regretted it. He didn't envy Ymir's predicament and he didn't like his visible anguish either...but he felt his tongue tied when trying to offer comforting phrases, they wouldn't come out, himself being of empathetic character but of murkier sympathetic quality. A man of few words and of some emotional distance, Grimes would've been hard-pressed to offer entirely heartfelt condolences to somebody he had just met. He also reasoned there was little he could do, as his prerogative was staying near Nova in the party, if it could be called that.

Instead, he nonchalantly turned to reach for another pocket almost as if he had forgotten about it's content, another pack of ciggies, and pulled one out before offering yet another one to Ymir while turning away from the crowd. Though the act may have been seen as incredibly insensitive at first, he finally revealed some motives: "If things are as serious as described, then your rivals have eyes and ears everywhere...so it's best to keep 'em in the dark, isn't it? Just in case. Y'know, this goes for you too, Kornelia."

Nova:
More overjoyed at the fact that they were back to the present era than disturbed at the physical evidence that it was all real, it took Nova a second or two to process the fact that the maid's horrified and anguished cry was directed at their sudden appearance. Still a bit flustered, Nova furrowed her thin brows while looking down at the cowering house-servant, "Y'know, I'm just as human as you are. You think I'm an ugly monster or something?! I—"

At that moment, a few pebbles fell from the ruined fireplace, then Nova's pupils narrowed as they begun to wonder if property damage to a likely very antique palace counted as an embarrassing diplomatic incident. Nova briefly turned away from the maid and looked back at the hole on the wall and mass of bricks on the floor. Once angry, Nova's frown turned into a wide and comical smile born out of nervousness as they continued to clutch the book entrusted to them: "I can make up for that." Then, Nova dashed to the room's door but suddenly paused, almost as if they feared that opening the door would spirit them away to another exotic time and place. Laughing nervously and realizing they were still in the stranger's presence, Nova looked at the maid, still trembling though no longer a wreck, "Ehehehe...eeeeeeh...I don't know how to get to the Ball."

by **Himmenfell** » Fri Oct 22, 2021 2:33 pm

She was finally there. The unnecessarily long journey was behind her. She had planned on simply booking a flight from New York to Truvaria, but her mother wouldn’t hear of it. She didn’t mind Frigg going to collage abroad or to her living in an American college dorm room, although she suspected her mother didn’t quite realise what that entailed. She hadn’t objected to her becoming a mercenary either, that she had encouraged. But no, sharing an airplane with a bunch of commoners was much too dangerous for her precious little daughter. Frigg had tried to explain to her that public airlines were perfectly safe. It wasn’t exactly as if she’d never been around commoners before. “For Christ’s sake, I’m on a public bus right now!” she had told her over the phone. The accidental “for Christ’s sake” had earned her an additional scolding and accusations that the Americans were turning her into a Christian. Frigg ended up agreeing to travelling by Himmenfellic knarr ship just to pacify her. Of course she wasn’t a Christian by any stretch of the imagination, but her mother was right that New York was rubbing off on her. It was affecting how she spoke, how she dressed, even how she thought. She had mixed feelings about this.

Even though Himmenfellic ships were some of the fastest in the world, it lengthened her journey considerably, which annoyed her. She later reflected that this might be another influence New York was having on her. She hadn’t always been this impatient. Maybe it was good for her to get away.

She had felt silly about the prospect of wearing her traditional royal garments for the ball. All that leather, the bear pelt, the tribal paint; it all seemed so archaic and uncivilized. She’d hardly worn anything but hoodies and jeans for the past three years. It had been so long since she’d been in princess mode, she wasn’t sure that was still her. Would they all laugh at her? Would they see her as not belonging there or not even in the modern world? If she dressed like a savage, what else would they see her as? She briefly considered ditching it and just buying a modern dress for the occasion. But she knew that if her mother ever found out she’d snubbed tradition, she’d never hear the end of it. So she got dressed.

Having put everything on and looked into the mirror, all those doubts had washed away. This felt right. It was like she found a puzzle piece that had been missing for so long that she’d forgotten it even existed. This was who she truly was. She was Frigg Eriksdottir, a Princess of Himmenfell, a daughter of the Bear Clan, direct descendent of Harald the Dragonslayer, fifth in line to the throne; this was her birth right.

And now she was there, dressed as the princess she was, at the Royal Palace in Truvaria, ready to do some royal flirting. The herald announced her arrival as she entered the ballroom. Heads turned, some seemingly impressed, others looking more judgemental. Frigg discovered she didn’t care what any of them thought. Only the King mattered now. The King and the honour of the Bear Clan. She walked into the room, scanning the crowd for her potential husband. Where in Odin’s name is he?

by **The Frozen Forest** » Tue Oct 26, 2021 7:26 pm

The Admiral took a moment to consider Princess Eleanore in her weakened state. To the Admiral's cynical worldview there could be no doubt that the poisoning was intentional, and that the knowledge that Eleanore was allergic was also assuredly known by the poisoner. Aron felt his gut churn at the thought of what it could mean-to poison not just a foreign official, but a foreign Princess was beyond mad, even by the standards of the nobility and court. No doubt The Royal Guard was somehow involved, given that they were more than likely aware of the allergies and health factors of the suitors.

There was the audio recording, though Aron couldn't place the voice as Eleanore might have hoped. There were too many unknowns for Aron to think clearly, especially given that he'd only just awoken a moment ago. Somewhere in that weary fog Aron reached a single conclusion, connected to a widely circulated rumor he'd heard since arriving at court. The Crown Prince Ari was plotting again and a coup attempt was not only possible, but probable. Afterall it made perfect sense, since the marriage of the King would only soften Ari's power at court and throughout the nation, now was the time to strike the decisive blow. What better way to do that then to sow chaos and bring down a foreign suitor. "I don't recognize that voice, but I do have some measure of an idea of how to proceed."

Aron kicked one of the sleeping sailors and then another and another, going through the bar to rouse his men. Slowly they awoke save the most intoxicated, and still drunk they stumbled about towards tables or the bar or outside to spill their guts or mope. They can hardly walk in a straight line. Aron looked towards the most sober appearing sailor and grabbed his shoulders. "Admiral?" The man burped and mustered a sloppy salute. "Listen carefully sailor, if you fail in the task I'm about to give you I'll have you in the stocks for a month." Aron considered the sailor for a moment, then brought his palm across the mans face, causing the sailor to reel from the slap. "Go to the barracks and muster the rest of the sailors. Tell them to meet me outside of the dungeons in twenty minutes, armed." The sailor looked at Aron with wide eyes as he realized the seriousness in the Admirals voice. The sailor seemed to force at least a moment of sobriety and saluted Aron, before about facing and half stumbling, half running out the bar door.

Aron rejoined Leopold and Eleanore and sighed. "If time is of the essence then we'd better hurry. If the Guard really is up to something then they'll rush to wash their hands of the evidence as soon as they realize that the jig is up. Let's secure this confident of yours and then we can worry about Captain Friis. Leopold I'll be depending on you going forwards, there isn't any room for mistakes." Aron kicked another one of the exhausted nearby sailors. "I take it the King isn't easily accessible if you're seeking out my help. We have two paths ahead, either we take down the guards in the dungeons and free the court photographer-It'll be risky but that will give us the best odds of freeing her before any untimely demise. Our other option is to force our way to the King, if you know where he is. I can't imagine the Guard will make it easy for us, but with my men heading towards the dungeons now it might be enough of a distraction for us to slip away. Personally I feel it the former option to be best, but the decision is yours."

⚔️⚔️⚔️

The sailor stumbled into the barrack, hands gripping for something to steady himself as he fought through his drunken stupor. "*Hic* Thee Admiral! Ordered...*Hic*" The sailor took as deep of a breath as he could muster. The men around acknowledged him and then disregarded him. His neck was on the line though, and so with as much force as he could muster he screamed across the barracks. "OHRDER 19!" Order 19, an order specifically put in place for their specific unit by The Admiral, detailing a possible coup by The Royal Guard against the King, in which the navy was to organize for a counter-coup. "Organize in the dungeons!"

The sailor burped and stumbled into one of the nearby beds, his mission now complete. The deadly seriousness of the order defied the fact that it had been given by a plastered sailor and those in the barracks were frozen for a moment before the officers present realized the meaning and began to scream orders. Like a bee hive that sensed danger, the sailors present in the barracks began to scramble about, throwing gear on and racing towards the armory where the rifles were stored.

Captain Hjoller stood out among the swirling chaos and calmly brought order to it, directing the men's actions so that by the eight minute mark they stood before him in even rows of six. forty-eight enlisted men and two officers was the allotted naval presence in the Palace. The Admiral was not to be seen and neither were eighteen enlisted men, leaving him with an even thirty men to respond to the order, one of which was too drunk to be of any use, so twenty-nine. How was Hjoller supposed to protect the King and fight off The Royal Guard with twenty-nine men?

"Order 19 details a coup attempt by The Royal Guard against the wishes of His Majesty King Ivan. We've been ordered to mobilize and move into the Dungeons for further orders. We will follow this order to a T, is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" The men's voices boomed.

Kornelia reeled back and gasped as the news broke. "Father is sick?" Her eyes focused on something off in the distance and her jaw ran slack like her brothers had moments before. Kornelia jumped back as Ymir laid his hand on her shoulder, stepping away from Ymir and Grimes and towards the doors that she had originally come through. Kornelia's face twisted in pain and as her back touched the marble walls of the Palace her expression twisted again, eyes wide and darting in fear. She gripped the pillar and watched her brother, her breath catching and uneven as she seemed to struggle. "Kornelia, come here." The girl shook her head and sprinted out the doors into the ballroom.

Ymir sighed and accepted the cigarette from Grimes. Ymir set it alight and took a long drag, feeling the nicotine enter his system. Smoking would no doubt become a bad habit from that point on, and Ymir pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "There's a lot of money in my families business and just as many upstarts who would have me and my sister dead if it meant taking our fortune. If I'm just hearing about my father now then it's almost a certainty that our rivals have as well. I suppose it's more important than ever that whoever the King decides to marry, that she is backed by my family and not our competitors.

I'm afraid I'll have to depart the ball early if anything happens to my father, if she shouldn't recover. There will be disloyal workers to be fired, sabotage to deal with and agents to be sent off to disrupt the other families." A cold bead of sweat started down Ymir's forehead. "It's almost funny, I feel like just a few minutes ago we were just discussing my Father and this business, and here it is being thrusted onto me with barely a warning." Ymir took another drag from his cigarette to steady himself. Do I have it in me to do this?

Kornelia ran across the marble blindly towards the far end of the room. A flash of purple and fluff and then BAM! Kornelia hit something a bit heavier than herself, sending them both sprawling onto the floor. "ouch ouch ouch" Kornelia mumbled, nursing her hurt scratched elbow. "I beg your pardon!" The mass of purple in Kornelia's periphery squawked, causing the young heiress to look over at it. The lines of age had begun to appear across her face and Kornelia noticed a couple of strands of white hair on the woman's head. "Who are you?" Kornelia asked stupidly, causing the woman's face to contort angrily. "I am Isabella de Tarton of the Duchy of Tarton girl, and I will have your apology now"

"M-my apologizes Duchess" Kornelia mustered. Isabella stood up and brushed herself off, anger turning to annoyance and then pity as she looked down at the obviously distressed girl. "Alright now, enough of this. On your feet girl, what's your name?" Kornelia stood slowly tears welling up in her eyes. "Kornelia Syrén Duchess, my family owns the Syrén Mines." Isabella harrumphed at that and nodded assuredly. "You're family is quite wealthy are they not? What seems to have you flustered."

"My father is ill Duchess, and he may d-d-die" the dams burst and Kornelia's face became awash with tears. Kornelia's tears began to turn to weeping and Isabella's natural sympathy won out. Isabella slowly moved close to Kornelia and wrapped her arms around the girl. "There, there. I'm sure everything will be fine." Kornelia buried her face in Isabella's dress, staining it with tears. "My brother isn't ready to take over the mines." Isabella nodded slowly "where is your brother now?" Maybe I can offload Kornelia with him. "He's here at the ball."

Nearby stood a man of no particular import. He stood by among the other men gathered at the ball, pretending to listen to their concerns and jokes, offering a polite chuckle or acknowledgment as prompted. His true attention was not focused on the men before him however, but rather the awkward sight of the Duchess of Tarton comforting a very distressed Syrén girl.

The maid stared at Nova and blinked duncically. She wasn't quite sure what she had just seen, had the girl crawled out of a broken fireplace? Why was she so pale? Why was she so small? It could only be one thing surely, but if that were true did that mean that she was dead? The maid looked towards the fireplace and back to Nova, eyes wide. "Oh noble landvaettir, my most humble a-apologies for disturbing your slumber. You are our most wise and h-humble protector" the girl mustered, realizing all too late that she had said twice called Nova humble, surely a grave insult. "P-please forgive my i-insolence."

The maid nodded vigorously as Nova asked the direction of the ballroom. "Y-yes of course, hehe. U-um it's t-that way." The maid poked her finger twice towards the left side of the hallway outside of the door. "A-all the way d-down the hall." The maid pulled her hands inwards and held herself at attention as she had been taught, her face perverted in a mix of fear and horror. She waited until the alien, whom she referred to as a landvaettir departed and then remained still for another minute longer, trying to make sense of what she had just seen.

The maid eventually set back into her cleaning, this time closing the doors to the room to avoid letting any further spirits roam inside and disturb her. She'd have to tell her family and friends what she'd seen, but they wouldn't believe her. The maid took her duster and set to work cleaning off the top of the bookshelves in the room, and then the piano and finally she came to the very same fireplace that the landvaettir had emerged from only a minute or so earlier.

She brushed off the top of the fireplace and swept along it's surface, taking off bits of rubble that hadn't been there before. The rubble only reinforced her belief that she had indeed seen a landvaettir, and as she collected the biggest chunks of brick and stone she stuffed them into the front pocket of her apron. There came a voice from in front of her, and the voice was smooth like the sound of a siren. The maid froze and looked towards the sound of the singing, and it came from above her, gradually traveling through the walls until finally settling in nothing less than the fireplace.

The maid's eyes went wide as her fight or flight instincts took over once again. Perhaps she could sense the uneasy tension in the air, or the unnaturalness of the music that grew in intensity and volume. Superstitious as ever she dropped her feather duster and took steps backwards, before spinning on her heel and racing for the massive wooden doors. She grabbed hold of the knob, twisted and pulled to discover it wouldn't move. The singing grew louder and then stopped, replaced instead by the sound of a dog growling. Sweat rolled down the maids forehead and she tugged on the door again and again, pulled with everything she had. The growling turned into breathing and the maid felt hot air touching her neck. "Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." A scream echoed through the hallway, barely audible, and then there was silence.

Duchess Arissa Eklund laughed lightly as Baroness Yali mentioned that the young girl was her sister, then shook her head. "That was my daughter Anne, she likes to keep in touch with the other court ladies. She was delivering some unfortunate news to me just now, but nothing that you should be concerned about dear." The Duchess smiled and took a sip from her tea just as servants came by to collect her now empty cup and replace it with a fresh drink from the kitchens. A sharp pain hit Arissa in the gut, followed by a sickening feeling that came quickly. The Duchess offered no hint as to the horrible feeling that was spreading through her body, rather deigning to continue with Yali.

"I'm afraid that's not the case of the secularists here, and certainly won't be representative of how we present you to the court. You could start at any time I suppose, I see that Sister Kaja is out, perhaps you should start by speaking to her. She and the bishop are representatives of the Forestrian Catholic Church here." Arissa gestured towards the front of the hall to the nun. Arissa perhaps due to her newfound illness didn't notice Sartana and the Fjolla only a few steps from the sister, and so didn't mention it to Yali.

Fjolla Saskia smiled wickedly back at Sister Kaja as Sartana offered her false promises, knowing full well that she had won the first battle of the coming engagement and that there was nothing Kaja could do to stop Saskia from at least making a case to Sartana, who among all the suitors would likely prove to be the most likely to align herself with the Torgeirists if the right promises were made and kept. Fjolla's face molded back into piety as Sartana wheeled around, offering no hint that she had offered a silent taunt to the Catholics. Naturally it seemed Sister Kaja had no reasonable retort as Saskia heard nothing.

Saskia walked along until she and Sartana were outside of the Palace, in front of the entrance hall which was adjoined to the ballroom. People were still entering even though the night was no longer young, coming in droves to catch a glimpse of the suitors or the King, to drink and dance and gossip and plot. Saskia stood off to the side to let others pass. There was enough chatter from the oncoming patrons that she and Sartana's conversation would be drowned out, no one would notice them or hear them as they spoke in plain sight.

Saskia rounded on Sartana and opened bluntly. "The Forestrian Catholic Church is dying and you don't seem like the kind of person who goes down with a sinking ship. Those people you saw me with before, more than half of them were Forestrian Catholic. Our faith has grown by ten percent just this year alone, and there are even members of the Royal Family who are sympathetic to our struggle. In five years we'll be equals, in ten years we'll have control of The Royal Court, in twenty we'll become the majority.

I suppose that doesn't matter much to you though, since that will be years down the road. Consider this instead then: The rest of the suitors are either nonfaithful, Catholic or minority faiths. The Catholics will no doubt be splintered between the various other suitors and Princess Eleanore is far more pious than you are. You'll be fighting for scraps if you support the Catholics, but if you support the Torgeirists you'll have the entire flock behind you. We can offer you our support and our allegiance and all you have to do is support our interests over that of the Catholics. You don't even have to join our faith yourself, at least not until you want to join us." Saskia struck her hand out, offering to shake. "We can give you the King's ear, and we can give you the support you need to win this Kingdom."

There was a noise at the front of the room, a bugle blast announcing the arrival of another suitor. Many heads turned to get a glimpse of the next potential Queen, and she was certainly a sight for those present. Unlike the rest of the suitors she was not wearing a modern dress, but rather a distinctly familiar yet exotic brand of tribal attire, something akin to what those in the northern region of The Frozen Forest might have appreciated. Just as quickly as the eyes fell onto Frigg did they leave her, or at least did it appear that way as many of those snuck curious glances past polite conversations and swirling waltzers.

The King was not among those in the ballroom, at least not yet. His entourage had dispersed save for his long time maidservant, Lucy Farehollow, who stood loyally by the door which lead to the gardens. Still the ball was not without a royal presence, as both Queen Freja of Camelone (the King's sister) and The Crown Prince Ari (The King's brother) mingled among the guests, bouncing from one foreign dignitary to another. It was the latter of which, the Crown Prince who noticed the sounding of the bugle and the arrival of Frigg to the ballroom. Slipping away from one particularly drunk fellow, Ari crossed the ballroom floor.

"With a dress like that you're sure to stand out from the other suitors." Ari approached, beating a few others who veered off to chat with other people. As close as he now was the finer points of the tribal garb were apparent, along with a curious marking on Frigg's throat which suggested itself to be cultural or religious in nature. "If you're looking for my brother, he's not here at the moment but I'm sure he'll return soon. My name is Ari, I'm next in line for the throne here. It's truly a pleasure to meet you Princess." The sound of music bubbled up from beside them in the form of a quickly paced flute.

"♪♪ Ah-long came the maiden-fair, eyes as bright as her auburn hair, to see the prince with an awful glare. Beware, beware, the prince without a care. The snake, a fake, a creature born to take. Bewitcher, beguiler, beholder of pain, see through his lies princess or suffer all the same ♪♪"

The source of the singing was that of Ruby Magnasson, a court skald and one of the King's favorites, untouchable even by the Crown Prince. The man danced around and into a short flute solo to accompany his little song. Ari considered the man, crossed her arms and turned back to Princess Frigg. "He's mad, don't pay him any mind."

by **Brettenwald** » Tue Oct 26, 2021 9:49 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:Ivan considered it Asha's words carefully, watching her gently as she described her father's military service, her grandfather's unsuccessful efforts to act as King, and the loss of her Uncle in an accident. Cursed by the fates, he had to agree with that assessment, it didn't sound good, but there wasn't much he could do to help any of those situations, save offer comfort.

Ivan found himself in an intense situation. Asha's eyes burrowed into his and hooked, she had his full attention. His hands rested softly on her hips, her arms around his neck. Ivan stepped forwards just a bit farther than before, simultaneously pulling Asha just a bit closer. His arms drew back as she was drawn closer and her arms worked their way along the skin of his body as the distance between the two dancing partners closed, any hint of formality or reservedness having disappeared. If anyone saw them then, they wouldn't see a casual dance but something much more suggestive of feelings in the air. Ivan's heart began to hammer in his ears, a steady rhythm growing faster and faster with each passing second.

Asha looked up at him and made a face. Something deep inside of him thrilled. The feelings in his chest had become a cryptadia, Ivan's understanding was anything but verily as he breathed in the scent of perfume. What am I doing? The thought crossed his mind before being scrambled. Asha was looking at him optatively and he looked at her much the same without realizing it was so. The distance closed gradually, and What...am I doing the rhythm of his heart had grown into a cannonade. Their foreheads were nearly touching. Ivan could feel the electricity in the air and it was seductive, calling to him siren-like. The pressure from before when he'd been in front of the court, it had become evanescent. Ivan hardly noticed that the dance had slowed to a stop, the pair holding each other oblivious. Ivan leaned in slowly, then stopped an inch short, so short, lips parted gently, nearly committed. The bushes rustled, the trees swayed, the wind howled. Something moved off to the side, but Ivan didn't notice, perhaps Asha did? Perhaps not?[/align]

Whatever had moved off to the side had been almost imperceptible to her, but that little "almost" was enough.

Enough for what?

Enough to snap Her Highness out of it.

oh gods help me, what am I doing-
I don't even know him and I'm already doing this, what's wrong with me-
I shouldn't do this, I can't do this, Father and Uncle Thomas and Cousin Marco are going to think I've seduced him if the rumors make it that far abroad, what are the press going to think of me-
for that matter, what's he going to think of me-
just some noble slut bringing dishonor on her family-
what's wrong with me-

Asha quickly and awkwardly separated from His Royal Majesty, stumbling backwards with shame burning her cheeks and a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

"Please forgive me, your royal highness, I don't- don't know what came over me."

by **A m e n r i a** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 1:18 am

Yali's eyes widened at Arissa stating the child was her daughter. Sure, genetic engineering in Amenria has allowed women, including her mother, to effectively become half their age at their fifties, but she was surprised to see a similar phenomenon here. Perhaps it's natural, maybe it's anomalous, or maybe the Frozen Forest was more advanced than she ever knew.

"Heh, you're looking young to be having a kid that age. Genetic therapy? Should I start calling you jiejie?" she grinned as she made the playful remark, then nodded at the Duchess' reassurance. "That's good. Will you be accompanying me or do I have to go to them myself?"

by **Kyrenaia** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 1:18 am

Princess Marla bint-Amina.
Balcony.
After Leon had spoken, Mam was silent for a long, long time. She thought, I could practically hear the gears whirring in her head like mad. She seemed to not hear whatever was going down with Kornelia and Ymir and the guy who had arrived with Nova...
...I glared in their general direction, once, but it did not seem to diminish their volume. Something, something, sick father. Something like pity moved in me. I was an orphan myself, at least had been until Mam had adopted me.
"I know your name as my child's.", she had said back then, in Selkie, by right and law making me hers.
I had responded with: "I know your name as my mother's."
Now, we stood here and Mam was quite visibly in distress. Would her nails have been of steel, they would have left deep gashes in the marble (or whatever stone it was), but as they weren't, the hands laid flat on the stone. Declaring her undying love for someone, who she had met a mere hour or two before...
...was that, what she wanted?
I softly placed my hand on hers, did my best to squeeze it.
Her ruby-red eyes fell on me.
"What do you think?", she asked in Selkie. If Leon understood or not did not matter, I saw it in her eyes. There was concern for me, her daughter, in them, for my future as well as hers. Unlike some of the lassies here, neither Mam nor I depended on Ivan's hand, quite on the contrary. But marrying the wrong guy, while not catastrophic, could have serious repercussions for both her and me. "Would he make a good father to you?"
I considered for a bit.
"It's a bit fast, innit?", I asked in my mothertongue. "I mean, let's be serious here, love at first sight, yadda, yadda, yadda, but you danced with him once and exchanged with him how many words - two dozen?" I raised an eyebrow. "And let's not kid ourselves, he needs a wife for one thing and one thing only... as a breeding mare. What he wants is a different question, though."
Mam snorted.
"Good points.", she said and then switched back to English: "Besides, how many women has our knight in shining armour..." She gave Leon a smile and a wink. "...called his sæta before? And not to mention, how many women called you sætii?"
While it was a teasing jest, there was some seriousness with that question.
"It's the armour. Girls dig boys in armour.", I added with a shrug and a grin of my own. "Speaking as a Selkie-lass here."
While Mam let out a laugh, a loud bellow, now a small, lady-like giggle, which might had been more appropriate for a Khana, I let a beat pass, looking to my Mam.
"You alright?"
Mam was silent, then looked at me.
"Leon, please arrange for the time alone with Ivan. Five minutes at most. I will either shatter his heart into a billion pieces or do the right thing for all three of us.", she said and leaned down, kissing me on my forehead. "Damn the torpedoes, ahead full!"
"Ahead full, aye, aye!", I replied to my Mam's literature quote in kind and even threw in a playful salute.
Mam smiled.

Hisa Kariken.
Soon after our discussion about reproduction, our conversation with Adelheidhime and Irenenadeshiko petered out and so we said our goodbyes - Mari wished them good luck, for if they were not aiming to win the King's hand, then they might need it for another romantic endeavour. After all, every pot needed to find its top.
The two of us left the buffet table as well, the proud Okunaratsuran Princess and her loyal retainer. The night was proceeding apace, too, with the first bits of drunken debauchery starting as well.
The King had yet to reappear, but there were other suitors, who had just arrived, among them a woman in uniform and a woman in furs and quite archaic clothing. It reminded me a bit of the Selkie, but then again, it was decidedly not a Geansai, so she most likely wasn't one.
Mari was not a fan of the Selkie.
Still, the woman looked quite good and quite comfortable in her skin.
There was a short commotion, as a young girl ran into someone else, apparently distressed (most likely the guy she liked had turned her down or something), and Mari steered us in the general direction, looking available for conversation or maybe even a dance.

by **Scornerse** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 8:12 am

The Frozen Forest wrote:Fjolla Saskia smiled wickedly back at Sister Kaja as Sartana offered her false promises, knowing full well that she had won the first battle of the coming engagement and that there was nothing Kaja could do to stop Saskia from at least making a case to Sartana, who among all the suitors would likely prove to be the most likely to align herself with the Torgeirists if the right promises were made and kept. Fjolla's face molded back into piety as Sartana wheeled around, offering no hint that she had offered a silent taunt to the Catholics. Naturally it seemed Sister Kaja had no reasonable retort as Saskia heard nothing.

Saskia walked along until she and Sartana were outside of the Palace, in front of the entrance hall which was adjoined to the ballroom. People were still entering even though the night was no longer young, coming in droves to catch a glimpse of the suitors or the King, to drink and dance and gossip and plot. Saskia stood off to the side to let others pass. There was enough chatter from the oncoming patrons that she and Sartana's conversation would be drowned out, no one would notice them or hear them as they spoke in plain sight.

Saskia rounded on Sartana and opened bluntly. "The Forestrian Catholic Church is dying and you don't seem like the kind of person who goes down with a sinking ship. Those people you saw me with before, more than half of them were Forestrian Catholic. Our faith has grown by ten percent just this year alone, and there are even members of the Royal Family who are sympathetic to our struggle. In five years we'll be equals, in ten years we'll have control of The Royal Court, in twenty we'll become the majority.

I suppose that doesn't matter much to you though, since that will be years down the road. Consider this instead then: The rest of the suitors are either nonfaithful, Catholic or minority faiths. The Catholics will no doubt be splintered between the various other suitors and Princess Eleanore is far more pious than you are. You'll be fighting for scraps if you support the Catholics, but if you support the Torgeirists you'll have the entire flock behind you. We can offer you our support and our allegiance and all you have to do is support our interests over that of the Catholics. You don't even have to join our faith yourself, at least not until you want to join us." Saskia struck her hand out, offering to shake. "We can give you the King's ear, and we can give you the support you need to win this Kingdom."

Sartana heard Sasika out. She had no special inclination towards being a crusader or a secularist, nevermind a promoter of Torgeirism. She was how convinced in the absolute necessity of being pragmatic. If it was true that they had the access to Ivan's ear that they claimed to have, even if she had explicit anti-torgeist intentions, she couldn't be overly hostile to them out of the gate anyway.

As usual Sartana made sure she stood and stared as subtly imposingly as she could in front of Saskia before speaking. She'd relax as she responded

"You'd be correct that I don't go down with sinking ships. In fact, I'm more familiar with controlling which ships sink. Which is precisely why the way you frame your offer bothers me. As though the march of Torgeirism and the collapse of Catholicism were inevitable regardless of my actions. As I'm sure you know, having observed me, that I intentionally shoved you to the ground. Yet despite that original hostility, I was more than willing to brush of both nun and father to speak with you. I am, as I act, Saskia. If I become Queen, neither the fall nor rise of Catholicism, Secularism or Torgeirism is inevitable. I will without remorse floor those in the way of my ambitions, hear out those who pledge usefulness for my purposes and reward those that prove to be useful. If you want my favour, all you have to do is make yourself useful to me. There's no trick or even special agreement necessary. However if you prove an obstacle, I'd floor you without hesitation and with a tinge of satisfaction."

Saskia told her that Torgeirism rewarded ambitious women with power. If that was true, she'd be symbiotic with them without even trying, as Sartana was fundamentally aggressive and ambitious. So to begin with, Saskia ought not expect to be spared Sartana's calculated behavior.

"With the suitors you consider as more pious than I, you have no convincing them. Of those who you might convince, none have the forcefulness I do and if you went to them instead they'd all become targets of mine if I recognized your backing them, if only to improve my standing with the Catholics. I welcome your support, Saskia, should it come and would happily reward it. But, if I pledged loyalties to others beyond the usefulness they showed, I would not be me. If the progress of Torgeirism is inevitable as you say it is if it's unharassed, you'll never have difficulty being useful to me, I'll never have reason to harm your people and I could always use the logic of secularism to protect you from harassment. Within that understanding, I can accept your offer of support."

Sartana shook Saskia's hand, but gave her a grip a shade too firm before she pulled her toward her somewhat forcefully. Despite her ability to reason with others and explain herself verbally, Sartana was one to make use of physical bullying whenever feasible. She was as she acted. If she had an advantage in strength, be it political or physical, she has no qualms about it's controlled, consistent usage to establish her dominance.

"But don't you or your people dare cross me, Saskia, I am as every bit vicious to foes in the battle for power as you can imagine I might be and I enjoy the opportunity to indulge in that viciousness. But, if Torgeirism proves to be nothing but a benefit, I have nothing but rewards to offer you." Sartana concluded with a sinister smirk.

Sartana let go of Saskia's hand.

by **Himmenfell** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 6:18 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:(Image)

There was a noise at the front of the room, a bugle blast announcing the arrival of another suitor. Many heads turned to get a glimpse of the next potential Queen, and she was certainly a sight for those present. Unlike the rest of the suitors she was not wearing a modern dress, but rather a distinctly familiar yet exotic brand of tribal attire, something akin to what those in the northern region of The Frozen Forest might have appreciated. Just as quickly as the eyes fell onto Frigg did they leave her, or at least did it appear that way as many of those snuck curious glances past polite conversations and swirling waltzers.

The King was not among those in the ballroom, at least not yet. His entourage had dispersed save for his long time maidservant, Lucy Farehollow, who stood loyally by the door which lead to the gardens. Still the ball was not without a royal presence, as both Queen Freja of Camelone (the King's sister) and The Crown Prince Ari (The King's brother) mingled among the guests, bouncing from one foreign dignitary to another. It was the latter of which, the Crown Prince who noticed the sounding of the bugle and the arrival of Frigg to the ballroom. Slipping away from one particularly drunk fellow, Ari crossed the ballroom floor.

"With a dress like that you're sure to stand out from the other suitors." Ari approached, beating a few others who veered off to chat with other people. As close as he now was the finer points of the tribal garb were apparent, along with a curious marking on Frigg's throat which suggested itself to be cultural or religious in nature. "If you're looking for my brother, he's not here at the moment but I'm sure he'll return soon. My name is Ari, I'm next in line for the throne here. It's truly a pleasure to meet you Princess." The sound of music bubbled up from beside them in the form of a quickly paced flute.

"♪♪ Ah-long came the maiden-fair, eyes as bright as her auburn hair, to see the prince with an awful glare. Beware, beware, the prince without a care. The snake, a fake, a creature born to take. Bewitcher, beguiler, beholder of pain, see through his lies princess or suffer all the same ♪♪"

The source of the singing was that of Ruby Magnasson, a court skald and one of the King's favorites, untouchable even by the Crown Prince. The man danced around and into a short flute solo to accompany his little song. Ari considered the man, crossed her arms and turned back to Princess Frigg. "He's mad, don't pay him any mind."[/align]

For a moment Frigg was swept away into a memory. She was 15 again, suffering through long hours with Lady Bera tutoring her in courtly etiquette. ”When meeting foreign royalty, you mustn’t bow as you would when honouring Himmenfellic nobility, but rather curtsy.” Frigg hated her and every second of her lessons. At the time she had wanted nothing more than to get away, to run off with Lady Bera’s son, who despite his extraordinarily boring mother had been quite cute. Now she wished she had paid more attention. Back to the present, Frigg curtseyed. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace.”

They were interrupted by the court skald. “He’s mad, don’t pay him any mind.” the Crown Prince told her.

Frigg struggled to hide a smirk. Lady Bera sounded in her head ”Don’t let them see you smile, except precisely when you mean to. If they can see your emotions, they can read your mind.” She had been dismissed as mad by people like Prince Ari her entire life. If only he hadn’t commented on the poetry, she probably wouldn’t have paid it much mind, but the way he tried to specifically dissuade her from listening made her consider the skald’s lyrics carefully.

“I look forward to meeting His Majesty, your brother.” she told him. “I’ve spent so much time among commoners for the past few years, it’ll be nice to finally spend time with another real royal.”

”You must never directly insult the nobleman you speak to. That is diplomatic suicide.” Lady Bera said in her memory. ”Only imply their inadequacy indirectly. It will give you deniability and wound their ego much more severely.”
Oh, sweet Bera. Frigg thought to herself. Why did I ever doubt you?

"But in the meanwhile, why don't you show me around?" She smiled at the Prince, this time deliberately.

by **The Holy Solar Empire** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 7:43 pm

The Poisoned

"I don't recognize that voice, but I do have some measure of an idea of how to proceed."

The Imperial duo where understandably disheartened that the Admiral wasn't of help, it was a long shot but one that they had to at least try when they had the chance, hopefully they'd have better luck next time. Either way they were intrigued by the Admirals solution on how to proceed, Eleanore rested against the bar while Leopold watched Aron kick the sorry sailors into shape, or at least as much as he could given that they were all beyond intoxicated, it was an amusing sight regardless. Aron's orders were audible to the two of them and they watched as the most sober of the sailors ran off to complete his task before turning their attention back to a returning Aron.

"Of course, you're the commander in this situation." Leopold gave a salute in response to Aron saying he would be counting on him.

"Things seem to be escalating, how sad that this ball has turned so sour." Eleanore commented on as she looked upon the sorry state of the drunken sailors, she could only hope that the sailor who the Admiral dispatched would succeed at his task, she could only hope God favors her in this just cause.

"Unfortunately so my lady, but we can only go with what we know at this time, and we must get to the bottom of who poisoned you, for all we know this is some prelude to a coup."

"Of that I am doubtful." Eleanore shook her head

"Pardon?"

"There are two many conflicting elements going on, enough to where we cannot be sure of what exactly is going on, lets think about what we do know and go from there. First of all we know that Sartana has a part in all of this, but to what extent I do not know, she had hinted to Seraria that the Duchess Eklund could face humiliation, and that the voice we cannot identify is the culprit, I had accurately deduced that a laxative would be the simplest and easiest method of doing so, but as we are all to aware it has ensnared more than the Duchess, who I am unsure is even affected by this plot."

"Why the Duchess though?" Leopold asked, he knew Eleanore was observant and smart, she was always good at piecing things together but he couldn't see how it benefited Sartana, or how it connected to everything else.

"To that end I am not sure, when I danced with the Lunar King he had mentioned how much influence the Duchess has in court and that she has a body count and is a potential adversary, Sartana may be wishing to eliminate a threat she isn't sure she can control." Eleanore shifted her posture slightly, one more suited to contemplation. "On the other hand Sartana had made mention of attaining the favor of the King's sister, who no doubt would see the Duchess as a threat to a preferred match for her brother, either way I am not to sure why the duchess is a target."

"You said the Lunar King told you about the duchess, how do we know he isn't involved, a sort of diplomatic homeland wrangler sort of scenario could be afoot, have you poisoned in the Frozen Forest to bring the wrath of your father, best case scenario he can slip free, even better if he somehow reverses the relationship..."

"No, I seriously doubt that is the case, the thought crossed my mind at first, but it doesn't make sense with how the guards are acting, and it doesn't match the events with Sartana and our mystery Baroness." Leopold stroked his chin in thought. "What if he is working in conjunction with the Crown Prince, that could explain why the guards have yet to aid you and instead arrest Seraria." He offered a revision, it didn't stick.

"Unlikely, it is far to risky, and I doubt the Prince would give up control of the Lunar Kingdom in order to get the crown, and it doesn't account for Sartana nor the Duchess. If I was the Prince I would attempt to swoon me while supporting another suitor, from there he could marry me and get a base of power outside of the Frozen Forest form which he could build up the resources needed to press a claim onto the Frozen Forest, of course the problem with this plot is that it is entirely centered around him gaining my interest, he had attempted to sway me already but I am no fool, I'm here for the King and no other shall have my heart, still doesn't mean he wouldn't try."

"Okay... so what about the guard then?"

"That question is the most complicated, we at least know a Baroness is responsible for for the laxatives, or at least heavily connected to it, but the question is where do the guards fit in all of this. It doesn't make sense for them to arrest Seraria on suspension of her taking part in the plot, there should be plenty more available evidence to determine she wasn't at fault, she was in the ball for most of the event, only leaving a small bit prior to the laxatives taking effect, but the laxatives had to have been prepared and sent ahead of time, unless whatever I was poisoned with is fast acting, but we still have an alibi for her."

"After I had deduced Sartana's ploy she had been upfront in trying to shift the blame onto me, no doubt under the same broken logic that caused her to target the Duchess, she no doubt told such a story to the guards, but for them to just believe her upfront is concerning, either they are complicit for some reason or these guards are beyond incompetent, I am unsure which is more concerning, that they are plotting a coup, or that they're so incompetent that their actions can be taken as such. They should have intercepted the information transmitted between my brooch and the monitor I gave Seraria, so why have they not brought the Baroness in, you'd think they would know her voice"

"Okay, but why have you fallen so sick, it can't be such a coincidence considering they haven't even attempted to give you aid."

"It must be incidental, surely you have noticed as well, they have referred to us as papist before, but our church is descended form the that of the Romans, could they surely know that the laxative would harm me so while not affecting anyone else?" That left Leopold pondering her words, there was till that could be used to counter this, but he had to admit, something fishy was going on. Any room left for thought was interrupted when Eleanore's brooch pinged with a sound, having her look down at it.

"That was Seraria, I told her to ping me if she ever felt uncomfortable; it seems they haven't discovered the monitor I have given Seraria, they have yet to take it if they know any better." A small fear creeped into her mind, not for her safety but for her mere dignity if they attempt to search for the monitor.

"Well, we have little time left to dally then." Leopold responded as he assisted Eleanore from her seat.

"Indeed, now is the time to act, and whatever has sowed such chaos must now be revealed, I believe our situation is best described as a Gordian knot; either there is a complex plot where my life is in the balance, or there are several interconnecting plots that have become entwined, with a snake in the long grass. I am sure of the later, there are to many incongruities for me to accept the former, but we must nonetheless presume anything is possible."

"So, what is our plan, it is clear that we must make our way to the dungeon, but without attaining the Kings ear we may face further complications."

"Aron could escort me to the King if he believes the sailors can continue with just Leopold present, I can even lend him my monitor so he can still give orders when Leopold is present, alternatively I can attempt to go alone, I may even find my own answers."

"Absolutely not, not giving you the shot was one thing, but just leaving you when there is a possibility of danger is too much." Leopold put is foot down, he was still her guard after all and he could only let her be so reckless before intervening.

"We have little choice, alas the more we talk the more time is wasted, Admiral, what is your opinion on this matter?" Eleanore turned to the Aron, they had to act fast but they needed to decide right here and now how to exactly proceed. Shall they go to the dungeons together, or separate into two groups?

by **The Saucer Pilots** » Wed Oct 27, 2021 8:15 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:
(Image)

Kornelia reeled back and gasped as the news broke. "Father is sick?" Her eyes focused on something off in the distance and her jaw ran slack like her brothers had moments before. Kornelia jumped back as Ymir laid his hand on her shoulder, stepping away from Ymir and Grimes and towards the doors that she had originally come through. Kornelia's face twisted in pain and as her back touched the marble walls of the Palace her expression twisted again, eyes wide and darting in fear. She gripped the pillar and watched her brother, her breath catching and uneven as she seemed to struggle. "Kornelia, come here." The girl shook her head and sprinted out the doors into the ballroom.

Ymir sighed and accepted the cigarette from Grimes. Ymir set it alight and took a long drag, feeling the nicotine enter his system. Smoking would no doubt become a bad habit from that point on, and Ymir pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "There's a lot of money in my families business and just as many upstarts who would have me and my sister dead if it meant taking our fortune. If I'm just hearing about my father now then it's almost a certainty that our rivals have as well. I suppose it's more important than ever that whoever the King decides to marry, that she is backed by my family and not our competitors.

I'm afraid I'll have to depart the ball early if anything happens to my father, if she shouldn't recover. There will be disloyal workers to be fired, sabotage to deal with and agents to be sent off to disrupt the other families." A cold bead of sweat started down Ymir's forehead. "It's almost funny, I feel like just a few minutes ago we were just discussing my Father and this business, and here it is being thrusted onto me with barely a warning." Ymir took another drag from his cigarette to steady himself. Do I have it in me to do this?

Kornelia ran across the marble blindly towards the far end of the room. A flash of purple and fluff and then BAM! Kornelia hit something a bit heavier than herself, sending them both sprawling onto the floor. "ouch ouch ouch" Kornelia mumbled, nursing her hurt scratched elbow. "I beg your pardon!" The mass of purple in Kornelia's periphery squawked, causing the young heiress to look over at it. The lines of age had begun to appear across her face and Kornelia noticed a couple of strands of white hair on the woman's head. "Who are you?" Kornelia asked stupidly, causing the woman's face to contort angrily. "I am Isabella de Tarton of the Duchy of Tarton girl, and I will have your apology now"

"M-my apologizes Duchess" Kornelia mustered. Isabella stood up and brushed herself off, anger turning to annoyance and then pity as she looked down at the obviously distressed girl. "Alright now, enough of this. On your feet girl, what's your name?" Kornelia stood slowly tears welling up in her eyes. "Kornelia Syrén Duchess, my family owns the Syrén Mines." Isabella harrumphed at that and nodded assuredly. "You're family is quite wealthy are they not? What seems to have you flustered."

"My father is ill Duchess, and he may d-d-die" the dams burst and Kornelia's face became awash with tears. Kornelia's tears began to turn to weeping and Isabella's natural sympathy won out. Isabella slowly moved close to Kornelia and wrapped her arms around the girl. "There, there. I'm sure everything will be fine." Kornelia buried her face in Isabella's dress, staining it with tears. "My brother isn't ready to take over the mines." Isabella nodded slowly "where is your brother now?" Maybe I can offload Kornelia with him. "He's here at the ball."

Nearby stood a man of no particular import. He stood by among the other men gathered at the ball, pretending to listen to their concerns and jokes, offering a polite chuckle or acknowledgment as prompted. His true attention was not focused on the men before him however, but rather the awkward sight of the Duchess of Tarton comforting a very distressed Syrén girl.

(Image)

The maid stared at Nova and blinked duncically. She wasn't quite sure what she had just seen, had the girl crawled out of a broken fireplace? Why was she so pale? Why was she so small? It could only be one thing surely, but if that were true did that mean that she was dead? The maid looked towards the fireplace and back to Nova, eyes wide. "Oh noble landvaettir, my most humble a-apologies for disturbing your slumber. You are our most wise and h-humble protector" the girl mustered, realizing all too late that she had said twice called Nova humble, surely a grave insult. "P-please forgive my i-insolence."

The maid nodded vigorously as Nova asked the direction of the ballroom. "Y-yes of course, hehe. U-um it's t-that way." The maid poked her finger twice towards the left side of the hallway outside of the door. "A-all the way d-down the hall." The maid pulled her hands inwards and held herself at attention as she had been taught, her face perverted in a mix of fear and horror. She waited until the alien, whom she referred to as a landvaettir departed and then remained still for another minute longer, trying to make sense of what she had just seen.

The maid eventually set back into her cleaning, this time closing the doors to the room to avoid letting any further spirits roam inside and disturb her. She'd have to tell her family and friends what she'd seen, but they wouldn't believe her. The maid took her duster and set to work cleaning off the top of the bookshelves in the room, and then the piano and finally she came to the very same fireplace that the landvaettir had emerged from only a minute or so earlier.

She brushed off the top of the fireplace and swept along it's surface, taking off bits of rubble that hadn't been there before. The rubble only reinforced her belief that she had indeed seen a landvaettir, and as she collected the biggest chunks of brick and stone she stuffed them into the front pocket of her apron. There came a voice from in front of her, and the voice was smooth like the sound of a siren. The maid froze and looked towards the sound of the singing, and it came from above her, gradually traveling through the walls until finally settling in nothing less than the fireplace.

The maid's eyes went wide as her fight or flight instincts took over once again. Perhaps she could sense the uneasy tension in the air, or the unnaturalness of the music that grew in intensity and volume. Superstitious as ever she dropped her feather duster and took steps backwards, before spinning on her heel and racing for the massive wooden doors. She grabbed hold of the knob, twisted and pulled to discover it wouldn't move. The singing grew louder and then stopped, replaced instead by the sound of a dog growling. Sweat rolled down the maids forehead and she tugged on the door again and again, pulled with everything she had. The growling turned into breathing and the maid felt hot air touching her neck. "Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." A scream echoed through the hallway, barely audible, and then there was silence.

Grimes:
Grimes saw Kornelia flailing away. Using the same deadpan delivery he had with the proposition for Ymir to marry Nova, the grey-haired man simply noted one thing: "Well, there goes our secret. Ya have any contingencies should the worst happen? Other than betting on a dark horse or marrying the dark horse, that is."

Nova:
For the first time after a period that seemed impossible to measure, Nova relaxed under the light of modern light bulbs after passing through the door; however, surprisingly, Nova's immediate priorities changed. Their small footsteps only took them so far and they were in no rush to get to the Ball, still processing all that had happened up until then and taking advantage to slowly walk things off with nobody in sight. Nova felt the tome given to them by the strange child, and even smelled it's ochre and old scent, questioning if it all really was a strange hallucination and finally accepting that it wasn't. But she didn't bother to open it, scared of it unleashing "magic", if the trend of the experience could be predicted. Worse, the night was likely ruined for them. Nova soon recalled that the kid said 'they released the Zull', and the thing, whatever it was, it had killed people; which, as far as Nova was concerned, meant they had killed people as well. *Again; after my teenage blunder in Roswell. Not again.*.

Just as they were going to walk away towards the party and the warm glow nearby, Nova picked up a noise that resembled a scream. Many may have taken them for a fool throughout the night, and Nova herself doubted what was considered reckless in a banal setting now, but noise was something that Nova was good at distinguishing. It was in their duty: sounds allow pilots to verify and monitor the condition of their aircraft and machinery. Any pilot should know the sounds of a normal-functioning vehicle; conversely, unexpected sounds or the lack of normal ones, should alert pilots to the possibility of failures or even other. Nova once considered they were ready for anything a mundane diplomatic meeting would offer, but the castle was now anything but mundane in their eyes. In retrospect, Nova thought that their wish to get away from the source of discomfort was selfish.

Can something get through the fireplace? What the hell is a lan-da-ba-et-er? Has this happened before? As a flight engineer, nothing goes un-checked even in routine, but this isn't routine. But... Instinct led Nova to run back to the room, but a few meters ahead, their pace slowed down and they slowly crept towards the room they left.

*Something's up or I'm gonna give the maid another scare...* Nova turned the knob and opened the door to the room with the fireplace again, one hand in her laser, which was a photonic Swiss Army Knife, but it was far better than nothing and likely better than throwing the book.

by **The Frozen Forest** » Mon Nov 01, 2021 11:59 pm

Where she had stood before now expanded a gaping nothingness, a piercing space ever growing as Asha wheeled backwards out of Ivan's arms and into the gardens cold prevailing winds. A whirlwind of leaves rushed along the garden floor indifferent to what had just transpired, followed by the cruel screaming of the wind. Ivan stood stupidly in place for a short moment as he registered Asha, and recognized his own embarrassing part in what had nearly happened. Ivan looked to Asha as she stepped back, his brain numb but his heart, his body, his soul screaming for him to close the distance again, to be close to Asha. Then the illusion cracked, spreading from his mind to his body before shattering entirely, leaving the King to recoil himself, taking a step back as fire spread across his face

The sound of a rustling bush continued to grow louder, and close by a small creature emerged from the greenery. The animal stepped along gently, either not noticing or not caring about Ivan and Asha. The fawn bent it's head and drank from the small artificial lake which adjoined the clearing and a small bird rustled from the trees to land on the fawns head. It would have been a curious sight, but a sight lost on Ivan whose attention was elsewhere.

Ivan didn't close the gap, rather crossing his arms defensively and looking oft center, avoiding Asha's gaze. Anger bubbled up and manifested in his voice, vaguely hinting at his frustration. "What's there to apologize for? We were only dancing, there was nothing else, nothing that you should apologize for." Was he frustrated with Asha or himself, Ivan couldn't quite know as his body turmoiled with emotions. Doubt seeded itself plainly in Ivan's mind. "Maybe we should head back inside the Palace?" Ivan suggested tentatively, not sure himself if that was what he really wanted.

Ivan looked towards Asha, her face a mix of shame and shock. It wasn't the first time that night that he'd seen her in this sort of state and Ivan wondered why it made his heart hurt. It softened his anger if nothing else, mixed with the knowledge that Sigrid had grown attached to Asha, so she couldn't be that unreasonable, maybe he was the unreasonable one? Ivan's face gradually softened.

The very edge of the Duchess's mouth twisted up in the tiniest of smirks in acknowledgement to Baroness Yali's comment regarding her daughter. It was the best that Yali could have hoped for, given the immense struggle that now overtook the Duchess, but which was kept well hidden from Yali. "I did have her when I was quite young, but makeup can do wonders to reverse the effects of aging, at least superficially and temporarily. I'm afraid due to...reasons I cannot mention, I won't be joining you. With that in mind I'll be excusing myself. Please do your best to win over the clergy, they will be instrumental to your success tomorrow."

Duchess Arissa nodded in the direction of Sister Kaja and the resident Bishop, and halfheartedly noticed that the Fjolla had managed to disappear herself. It would be up to Baroness Yali to convince Sister Kaja and the Fjolla to assist them. If she failed they would have their work cut out for them, but if she succeeded, the King would have no choice but to consider Yali seriously in the following day, which meant that Duchess Arissa still had a chance of having her interests represented.

Arissa bowed lightly to the Baroness, a gesture that should have technically have been the other way around, as her rank of Duchess easily outweighed Yali's of Baroness. It was a subtle nod to their affirmed goals, that Yali would be Queen one day.

Ser Leon Mayr absorbed the exchange between the Khana and her daughter easily enough, but just as before he feigned ignorance for their benefit. As far as they should be concerned he had heard nothing, understood perhaps even less than nothing. The only two words he allowed himself to react to were that of his native tongue, those terms of dear affection. Had he been a lesser man he might have snorted at the suggestion that he would dare besmirch his honor by offering such a treasured phrase easily to just any woman. Granted he had been called Saetii before, so perhaps the Khana hadn't been completely off the mark with her assessment.

Leon bent his head and folded his arm under his chest in a respectful bow. "I'll take my leave then, Khana. I'll return once I've completed the task." Leon raised his head high and considered the Kyrenaian's one last time. Somewhere deep in the Knights brain grew a sproutling of a thought that maybe, just maybe things wouldn't work out in the poetic way he assumed it would. Perhaps Amina and Ivan weren't meant to be? Perhaps love was not something so simple.

The Knight turned and began to make his way through the crowd. Leon scanned the ballroom for any sign of Ivan or his continuously expanding entourage, yet unusually noticed none of them. It appeared so far as Leon could discern that they had dispersed and that the King was no longer in the ballroom. Still he did manage to find one familiar face, that of Lucy Farehollow. Lucy Farehollow, the King's personal handmaid and long time friend. There had long been rumors that Ivan was engaged in a sordid affair with the young beauty, but Leon knew that wasn't true. Lucy was far too loyal to put Ivan in such a compromising position.

"Good afternoon Lucy, I see that the rays of summer have kept you fair and healthy." Leon smiled and stopped a few paces from the handmaid. "Sure. And the rays of winter have made you old and ugly." Lucy retorted viciously. Isn't she as pleasant as ever? "I'm afraid I haven't had the opportunity to meet with the King yet, would you happen to know where he is?" Of course you know, you wicked little weasel, you're with him most of his waking hours. "No." Lucy leaned her back against the cool marble wall and lazily yawned. "What do you mean no?" Lucy's eyes opened suddenly and she shot back "Wipe that disgusting smile off your face. The King will return when he's ready." So that's how it's going to be. "I'll be sure to speak with him when he returns then." Leon looked at the door beside Lucy, it lead to the gardens. Leon suspected Lucy was guarding it, why else did she not budge upon his approach?

Leon turned and headed off in the direction of the buffet table. He kept along in that direction until he was sure that he was out of sight, before rounding and doubling back towards the entrance of the ballroom. Passing along he noticed absentmindedly the resident Sister, Kaja. "What's the hurry Sir Leon?" Leon stopped momentarily and bowed. "Sister Kaja, wonderful to see you. I've urgent business to attend to, but perhaps we'll have the opportunity to speak later?" Kaja nodded calmly, she herself seeming not quite fully there with him. Leon made a note of Kaja's distress. "I'll look forwards to it Sir Leon."

Leon made his way outside and through the throngs of arriving visitors and guests. Between the relative darkness and the sheer weight of people arriving, Leon passed by two certain individuals of note without notice. The Knight passed along the stone wall until he came to a small path which lead down and around towards a small river near the palace, and from this river he came upon his old game trail. Leon followed the trail uphill, through the trees until he arrived at the massive hedgerow which kept most animals out. It would have been easier to slash through, but the thought of destroying the court gardeners hard work didn't sit right with Leon, so he traveled along the hedge in search of any gap or hole. After some walking he discovered one such crevice in the hard greenery, just wide enough to slip through without his armor.

Leon took a deep breath and began to pull off the heavy, decorative piece. It felt almost as bad as committing a crime as he set the metal against a tree, leaving him wearing only his normal clothing and a padded gambeson. Leon carefully crawled through through the hedgerow and emerged on the other side only to be met by a freshly constructed stone wall. Thankfully this particular wall was not as tall as the one before and without his armor Leon was able to jump and pull himself over.

It was hard to guess where he was in the gardens, but judging by the overgrown flowers and dirty paths he placed himself as being in the outer rim, which had long since fallen into neglect. If Ivan were in the gardens he would be deeper inside, and that was the heading that Leon took as he crept along the path, watching for guards as he went.

Sigrid looked over the vast viridian assortment of candies and sweets spread across the deserts table. Picking up a concolorate cookie she took a bite, wretched and then set it back onto the table. The young woman had long since exhausted the tables entire supply of tarts (something that might have caused someone else of her size to be violently ill) and was now seeking out a worthy successor to the consumed treats of yesterminute. Sigrid plucked another sugary delicacy from the table, this time a kitten-colored cupcake with cute sprinkles. Sigrid took the entire cupcake in a single bite, the flavor of vanilla and oranges sparking lightning across her tastebuds. Sigrid decided that she enjoyed it, and set to work creating a platter of the kitten cupcakes, deigning only those of the highest quality to be of any edibility.

"Don't you think you should be sharing those with the other girls your age?" The voice came from none other than a very upset looking nanny; Sigrid's nanny to be exact. What followed was a strongly worded tongue lashing and slap on the wrist for sneaking out of her room, for bothering a Princess and for eating from the deserts table after dark. In order to pay off her sins the young girl was aimed in the direction of the balcony, where a girl of similar size and presumed age awaited unknowingly.

Sigrid carried two kitten cupcakes, one in each of her hands. She paced out the door and to the balcony, yet decidedly did not see any other girl there. There were two smoking souls and two strange looking women that Sigrid couldn't quite place. The younger of them could not possibly be Sigrid's age, and such an idea was likely appalling to the young girls brain, but no doubt the lady in question was Marla bint-Amina, there could be no other. Sigrid took a deep breath and marched forwards, directly up to Marla. "Hello! My name is Sigrid. I brought you this cupcake, can we be friends?" What was no doubt a highly awkward approach was all the norm for Sigrid.

The booze was arriving steadily and Tasha's confidence was growing. She took one shot, then another and another until she found herself cuddling a bottle of unidentifiable liquor, something that made her feel both wealthy and powerful despite being neither in her daily life as a member of the minor nobility. No doubt Tasha's father expected her to meet some strapping young noble at this ball as well; why else would he have spent so much of his savings to buy her a nice dress, a carriage to arrive in and the price of a bribe to get her an invitation in the first place.

Tasha took a swig of her booze and stood up from her spot along one of the ballroom bars. There was one solitary objective and he was beautiful. Tasha could see the danger behind his eyes, the calculating and ambitious way he moved his body, throwing his weight around with both intention and determination. He would be the one that Tasha would fall in love with, marry, have children with. All it would take is a little courage, and she had a big bottle of it at hand. Tasha stood from her place at the table and with her bottle still in hand, began her approach. It was a steady crawl at first, inching her way closer and closer to her quarry. He stood along with his pals, and Tasha was able to get closer and closer until she could almost smell his driftwood cologne. He turned his head in her general direction and Tasha scurried backwards out of view.

Tasha raised the bottle to her lips and let the firewater pass down her throat. It tasted bitter and the smell almost made her gag, but she drank and drank until the taste became too much. It was time to withdraw. Tasha bit her lip and stepped back towards her table. She looked back at the man and felt a stirring in her gut. Tears began to stream down Tasha's face, slowly mixing with her now ruined makeup. Tiny droplets dripped down her cheeks, hitting both the table and the hem of her dress

Two rattlesnakes slithered about in the court, each an exotic predator growing out of the dirt and mud. The snakes went along, speaking to the other animals and exerting their wills on the jungles inhabitants. One snake was a master of whispers, offering sweet lies and vicious accusations, the other not so different. Eventually the snakes met and sized one another up. "What sharp fangs you have." One remarked, and the other replied "fangs are useless without venom and yours is the most potent in the jungle. Let's be friends you and I, and nothing will be able to stop us." (The Ballad of the Moonshards)

Fjolla Saskia looked into the eyes of the beast of prey before her. Her reflection smiled back, and the Fjolla nodded her head vigorously at the closure to what was sure to be a productive partnership. Adrenaline pumped through her system; it reminded her of her early days in the orphanages of Pigs Hollow, the poor neighborhoods in the Riverlands Region where Saskia had been born and raised. Saskia's perception of Sartana was that of someone who thrived on conflict and would not accept an equal, perhaps not even the King, in regards to her authority. Naturally the threats rolled off Saskia like water, if that was what would be required for Sartana to cooperate with the Torgeirists then the Fjolla would bear the disgrace with pride.

"A wise decision, your grace. Your concerns are duly noted. Shall I see you back to the ballroom?" There was nothing else to be said as far as Saskia was concerned. Results would speak for themselves, when the King has eyes for no one but Sartana. When the path to power is paved in bodies and blood who would find themselves atop that tower of cards? It was the Fjolla's job to ensure that as few Torgeirists as possible were counted among the casualties, and that meant the spilling of sweat here at this ball. Time would tell whether Sartana was someone who could be counted on to fulfill her promises.

"It would be my honor to show you around Princess" anything to get away from that inane skald. All nearby eyes were on Frigg and Ari throughout the brief introduction and there was a collective surprise at the bald bluntness that Ruby had displayed. Skalds were not court fools so such an insult was not something taken in jest, it was a direct and intentional insult on the Crown Prince's person, and were it anyone else would have been met with severe retaliation. Frigg for her part was noticed for restraint at the smell of metaphorical blood, something perhaps surprising to those who had already seen the likes of the other suitors. It was welcome if nothing else, the reminder that even foreigners could adhere to court manners without trying to bend them for their own gain.

The crowds general acceptance of Frigg was not lost on Ari as he turned to lead the Princess through the throngs of people. They parted wordlessly and Ari slipped through. From the side a man approached and Ari acknowledged him with a curt nod. "Princess Frigg, this is my bodyguard Rollo Halvardson. He served on my brothers detail before, and then my sisters and now mine." Rollo bowed "Welcome to the Palace Princess, please pay me no mind." The guard fell back behind Ari and Frigg and trailed them.

The ballroom itself was magnificent and massive. A marble testament to the wealth and power of the nation, attended to by servants who ran along like worker ants to deliver food and drinks to tables, clean the floors, attend to the guests and otherwise deal with whatever business the nobility needed done. Ari led Frigg along at first towards the right side of the room, which was filled with scores of circular wooden tables atop which lay gentle white linens. Guests sat among them, drinking and eating and socializing with each other, or crying alone over a bottle as one young woman seemed to be.

Distress crossed Ari's face and he stopped suddenly at the sight. "Rollo come here" the Prince demanded, and Rollo complied. Speaking in a low voice Ari pointed the crying woman out. "Go and see what what the problem is. If you can handle it, handle it." Rollo nodded and began to cross through the crowd to the wounded soul. Ari turned towards Frigg and gestured around. "This is the dining area. On the opposite side of the room are the buffet tables, everything is provided courtesy of the crown so feel free to enjoy yourself."

Without missing a beat Ari kept on, moving towards the other end of the room. An imposing throne beheld them there, and Ari stopped before it, considering it for a long moment before gently running his hand down the fine marble. "There are thrones throughout the Palace, wherever meetings or gatherings are held. This is where the my father and now my brother receive the court during balls such as this. It would appear that he remains absent however."

"Would you care to dance?" Ari looked to Frigg and held his hand out to her. The ballroom stood before them, hundreds of souls also dancing around, spinning to the rhythmic melody. Conveniently Ari had left out mention of the various side rooms adjoining the ballroom, particularly the old bar where the sailors and soldiers were restricted to drinking.

Baroness Melonie Cressida crept along the stone wall outside of the palace, tracking someone who was obviously not where they were supposed to be. Their boots made heavy impressions to following them was easy, even for someone who no tracking experience like Melonie. Her pursuit was slow and methodical, quite the change from her earlier adventure and subsequent accidental poisoning of the tea supply-though her caution was not intentional. Walking along the dirt in heels meant that one false step and she could break her ankle as well as become trapped somewhere she also was not supposed to be.

After some time she came upon a shiny metal suit of armor alongside a hole in the hedgerow. Two delicious ideas came to mind, each with their own risks and rewards. She could turn the armor over to the guards and explain her suspicions that someone was creeping about in the gardens or she could follow them in and blackmail them. Melonie considered both and then ducked inside. She was met with a low stone wall, a bit difficult for someone of her stature to scale, but not impossible.

Melonie jumped and hauled herself over. Sitting atop the wall she had the quick thinking to throw her heels down before dropping herself onto the cold dirt floor of the outer gardens. Where did he go? Melonie couldn't make out any footprints and the path went two ways. There was a sound off to her right, the rattling of heavy ceremonial armor which Melonie recognized immediately. "Right" she whispered and began down the path away from the oncoming men.

May I Stand Unshaken & Dragons

The room gradually cleared of folk, with the drunken sailors and guards stumbling back to their barracks. The Admiral might have been concerned that one of the guardsmen would alert his compatriots to their plot, but given how sorry their state was, it was unlikely they would remember anything that had been said by the time they got back to their beds. The bartender was the more concerning factor, having disappeared. The clock was ticking but Aron still sat quietly nearby as Leopold and Eleanore gradually laid out the puzzle pieces and began putting them together, filling Aron in somewhat on the situation from their perspective.

A seed of doubt embedded itself in Aron's mind, what if this wasn't a coup? Or worse, what if it was and he reacted as though it weren't? It was a suicidal notion for him, less so for Leopold and Eleanore. Either way his life and career were both on the line and he suddenly wished he hadn't promised his loyalty away over just a drinking game. The King was the key to this whole affair, since his word was law. If they could get to him it wouldn't matter if the evidence pointed against Seraria so long as the King listened to Eleanore. He could shut down a coup before it could really begin.

The question was posed regarding breaking up their little group, with Leopold leading the charge in the dungeons. It was a risky proposition since the sailors wouldn't particularly trust him, nor would Aron be there to keep things from getting out of hand. He'd always lived by a mantra of doing things yourself to ensure their success, but this was a different sort of ituation. Still it wasn't as though someone as sick as Eleanore was going to be able to get past the guards, and Leopold didn't know his way around the castle. It was a situation that Aron had encountered plenty of times in his career, the decision to handle something yourself or delegate a task to a subordinate. Aron held a long look with the pair and then nodded once, decisively.

"Breaking up will give us the best opportunity to both find the King and free the court photographer. Leopold you don't hold any rank in the Frozen Forestrian Navy, but that shouldn't impede you. My men will follow you if they believe that you're working under my orders. Do whatever is necessary to keep them in line and free Seraria, though take every avenue before spilling blood if it should come to that. I'll travel with Eleanore to find and talk to the King." Aron began to lay out directions through the palace and to the dungeons, a route that was rarely

Ymir shook his head initially, then nodded. "It's certainly going to make things more difficult. If the worst does come to pass then I'll have to sell our assets. I suppose anything could happen now, hopefully my families rivals don't realize what's happened until after we've transitioned from my fathers administration to my own. I suppose the best case scenario is that he recovers tonight, though I'm sure Kornelia won't let me forget."

Ymir bit his lip and considered a terrible thought. Him and Kornelia having lost their power and weath and confined to the cold streets of Pigs Hollow, scrapping by to survive. The Frozen Forest was not particularly kind to it's noble families, his family would not be bailed out by the crown, the other families would circle their corpses and exact their price in blood. Ymir shuddered and turned back to Grimes. "I need to make sure that my family comes out of this alive."

***
Kornelia continued to sob into Duchess Isabella de Tarton's fine dress, staining it with her tears. Isabella for her part was growing increasingly irritated with Kornelia, but listened to her as she bemoaned this circumstance or that related to her family troubles. Isabella couldn't see why Kornelia didn't just go and do something about her troubles, as it seemed that she would rather take the route of blaming others for all of her misfortunes. Isabella hated that sort of mentality, since it offered no hope of growth. As Kornelia's sobs hit their fever pitch Isabella's frustrations boiled over and she stood, pulling Kornelia up alongside her.

"If your really in such a bad situation, maybe it would be prudent of you to do something to change your fate. Why not talk to your brother and share theses concerns with him, afterall this is a family issue is it not? You could come up with a plan together. Follow me." Isabella hauled Kornelia along with her as she made her way away from the crowd who peered at them curiously. Stopping alongside a pillar she rounded on Kornelia. "If what you're telling me is true, you shouldn't be talking about it as loudly as you are. You need to keep this under wraps."

The library was silent as a ghost save for the ticking of a massive grandfather clock that was not present before. As Nova stepped through it's heavy wooden doors and onto the soft carpet she may have noticed a chilling of the air, the temperature of the room dropping to such a point that one's breath left in vapors. A cold wind stirred the old bookshelves despite the lack of a window, and despite the darkness of the room a candle started to life atop an impressive black piano. Something about this room in particular was unnatural, but as to a sign of threat there was none. The wind howled through the room and the spines of books stared back at Nova, but the maid was nowhere to be seen and neither were any other living things.

A rhythmic thumping pounded away from the fireplace, which was now totally and utterly sealed off. The thumping was constant and familiar, like that of a heartbeat beneath the floorboards. It was a tale tell sign of evil, but what could Nova do? Tear up the floorboards? Such an act was surely an act of vandalism.

by **Kyrenaia** » Tue Nov 02, 2021 6:09 am

The Frozen Forest wrote:
[...]

Ser Leon Mayr absorbed the exchange between the Khana and her daughter easily enough, but just as before he feigned ignorance for their benefit. As far as they should be concerned he had heard nothing, understood perhaps even less than nothing. The only two words he allowed himself to react to were that of his native tongue, those terms of dear affection. Had he been a lesser man he might have snorted at the suggestion that he would dare besmirch his honor by offering such a treasured phrase easily to just any woman. Granted he had been called Saetii before, so perhaps the Khana hadn't been completely off the mark with her assessment.

Leon bent his head and folded his arm under his chest in a respectful bow. "I'll take my leave then, Khana. I'll return once I've completed the task." Leon raised his head high and considered the Kyrenaian's one last time. Somewhere deep in the Knights brain grew a sproutling of a thought that maybe, just maybe things wouldn't work out in the poetic way he assumed it would. Perhaps Amina and Ivan weren't meant to be? Perhaps love was not something so simple.

The Knight turned and began to make his way through the crowd. Leon scanned the ballroom for any sign of Ivan or his continuously expanding entourage, yet unusually noticed none of them. It appeared so far as Leon could discern that they had dispersed and that the King was no longer in the ballroom. Still he did manage to find one familiar face, that of Lucy Farehollow. Lucy Farehollow, the King's personal handmaid and long time friend. There had long been rumors that Ivan was engaged in a sordid affair with the young beauty, but Leon knew that wasn't true. Lucy was far too loyal to put Ivan in such a compromising position.

"Good afternoon Lucy, I see that the rays of summer have kept you fair and healthy." Leon smiled and stopped a few paces from the handmaid. "Sure. And the rays of winter have made you old and ugly." Lucy retorted viciously. Isn't she as pleasant as ever? "I'm afraid I haven't had the opportunity to meet with the King yet, would you happen to know where he is?" Of course you know, you wicked little weasel, you're with him most of his waking hours. "No." Lucy leaned her back against the cool marble wall and lazily yawned. "What do you mean no?" Lucy's eyes opened suddenly and she shot back "Wipe that disgusting smile off your face. The King will return when he's ready." So that's how it's going to be. "I'll be sure to speak with him when he returns then." Leon looked at the door beside Lucy, it lead to the gardens. Leon suspected Lucy was guarding it, why else did she not budge upon his approach?

Leon turned and headed off in the direction of the buffet table. He kept along in that direction until he was sure that he was out of sight, before rounding and doubling back towards the entrance of the ballroom. Passing along he noticed absentmindedly the resident Sister, Kaja. "What's the hurry Sir Leon?" Leon stopped momentarily and bowed. "Sister Kaja, wonderful to see you. I've urgent business to attend to, but perhaps we'll have the opportunity to speak later?" Kaja nodded calmly, she herself seeming not quite fully there with him. Leon made a note of Kaja's distress. "I'll look forwards to it Sir Leon."

Leon made his way outside and through the throngs of arriving visitors and guests. Between the relative darkness and the sheer weight of people arriving, Leon passed by two certain individuals of note without notice. The Knight passed along the stone wall until he came to a small path which lead down and around towards a small river near the palace, and from this river he came upon his old game trail. Leon followed the trail uphill, through the trees until he arrived at the massive hedgerow which kept most animals out. It would have been easier to slash through, but the thought of destroying the court gardeners hard work didn't sit right with Leon, so he traveled along the hedge in search of any gap or hole. After some walking he discovered one such crevice in the hard greenery, just wide enough to slip through without his armor.

Leon took a deep breath and began to pull off the heavy, decorative piece. It felt almost as bad as committing a crime as he set the metal against a tree, leaving him wearing only his normal clothing and a padded gambeson. Leon carefully crawled through through the hedgerow and emerged on the other side only to be met by a freshly constructed stone wall. Thankfully this particular wall was not as tall as the one before and without his armor Leon was able to jump and pull himself over.

It was hard to guess where he was in the gardens, but judging by the overgrown flowers and dirty paths he placed himself as being in the outer rim, which had long since fallen into neglect. If Ivan were in the gardens he would be deeper inside, and that was the heading that Leon took as he crept along the path, watching for guards as he went.

(Image)

Sigrid looked over the vast viridian assortment of candies and sweets spread across the deserts table. Picking up a concolorate cookie she took a bite, wretched and then set it back onto the table. The young woman had long since exhausted the tables entire supply of tarts (something that might have caused someone else of her size to be violently ill) and was now seeking out a worthy successor to the consumed treats of yesterminute. Sigrid plucked another sugary delicacy from the table, this time a kitten-colored cupcake with cute sprinkles. Sigrid took the entire cupcake in a single bite, the flavor of vanilla and oranges sparking lightning across her tastebuds. Sigrid decided that she enjoyed it, and set to work creating a platter of the kitten cupcakes, deigning only those of the highest quality to be of any edibility.

"Don't you think you should be sharing those with the other girls your age?" The voice came from none other than a very upset looking nanny; Sigrid's nanny to be exact. What followed was a strongly worded tongue lashing and slap on the wrist for sneaking out of her room, for bothering a Princess and for eating from the deserts table after dark. In order to pay off her sins the young girl was aimed in the direction of the balcony, where a girl of similar size and presumed age awaited unknowingly.

Sigrid carried two kitten cupcakes, one in each of her hands. She paced out the door and to the balcony, yet decidedly did not see any other girl there. There were two smoking souls and two strange looking women that Sigrid couldn't quite place. The younger of them could not possibly be Sigrid's age, and such an idea was likely appalling to the young girls brain, but no doubt the lady in question was Marla bint-Amina, there could be no other. Sigrid took a deep breath and marched forwards, directly up to Marla. "Hello! My name is Sigrid. I brought you this cupcake, can we be friends?" What was no doubt a highly awkward approach was all the norm for Sigrid.

[...]

Princess Marla bint-Amina.
Balcony.
Mam and I watched as Leon went and Mam exhaled deeply.
I smiled at her, squeezed her hand - how roles could change. When I lit the pyre of my parents, many years ago, she had held my hand, squeezed it, and had smiled at me. All would be well, she had tried to say non-verbally. Now I said something similar.
"Thank you.", she told me in Selkie. "If this works out, then I want you to know, that I will always love you as my daughter."
"And if it doesn't?", I asked with a cheeky grin.
Mam laughed, just as a blonde young woman, maybe a few years older then me, stepped onto the balcony, two cupcakes in hand. She approached me with the precision of laser-guided ammunition, introduced herself as Sigrid and offered me a cupcake, together with the offer of being friends.
Mam made a small step back, leaving us alone.
I nodded, taking one of the cupcakes.
"Sure.", I said, "I am Marla, by the way." Sigrid... that name rang a bell somewhere... I mulled it over, took a bite. The sweetness of the pastry soon banished the thoughts. "That one's good."

by **The Saucer Pilots** » Tue Nov 02, 2021 11:25 am

The Frozen Forest wrote:
(Image)
Ymir shook his head initially, then nodded. "It's certainly going to make things more difficult. If the worst does come to pass then I'll have to sell our assets. I suppose anything could happen now, hopefully my families rivals don't realize what's happened until after we've transitioned from my fathers administration to my own. I suppose the best case scenario is that he recovers tonight, though I'm sure Kornelia won't let me forget."

Ymir bit his lip and considered a terrible thought. Him and Kornelia having lost their power and weath and confined to the cold streets of Pigs Hollow, scrapping by to survive. The Frozen Forest was not particularly kind to it's noble families, his family would not be bailed out by the crown, the other families would circle their corpses and exact their price in blood. Ymir shuddered and turned back to Grimes. "I need to make sure that my family comes out of this alive."

***
Kornelia continued to sob into Duchess Isabella de Tarton's fine dress, staining it with her tears. Isabella for her part was growing increasingly irritated with Kornelia, but listened to her as she bemoaned this circumstance or that related to her family troubles. Isabella couldn't see why Kornelia didn't just go and do something about her troubles, as it seemed that she would rather take the route of blaming others for all of her misfortunes. Isabella hated that sort of mentality, since it offered no hope of growth. As Kornelia's sobs hit their fever pitch Isabella's frustrations boiled over and she stood, pulling Kornelia up alongside her.

"If your really in such a bad situation, maybe it would be prudent of you to do something to change your fate. Why not talk to your brother and share theses concerns with him, afterall this is a family issue is it not? You could come up with a plan together. Follow me." Isabella hauled Kornelia along with her as she made her way away from the crowd who peered at them curiously. Stopping alongside a pillar she rounded on Kornelia. "If what you're telling me is true, you shouldn't be talking about it as loudly as you are. You need to keep this under wraps."

(Image)

The library was silent as a ghost save for the ticking of a massive grandfather clock that was not present before. As Nova stepped through it's heavy wooden doors and onto the soft carpet she may have noticed a chilling of the air, the temperature of the room dropping to such a point that one's breath left in vapors. A cold wind stirred the old bookshelves despite the lack of a window, and despite the darkness of the room a candle started to life atop an impressive black piano. Something about this room in particular was unnatural, but as to a sign of threat there was none. The wind howled through the room and the spines of books stared back at Nova, but the maid was nowhere to be seen and neither were any other living things.

A rhythmic thumping pounded away from the fireplace, which was now totally and utterly sealed off. The thumping was constant and familiar, like that of a heartbeat beneath the floorboards. It was a tale tell sign of evil, but what could Nova do? Tear up the floorboards? Such an act was surely an act of vandalism.

Nova felt they couldn't access the situation properly anymore, and in their mind, that was as bad or worse than being entirely helpless. So there was only one thing that protocol instructed them to do: avoid, evade and retreat. There was no shame in turning tail in the face of uneven odds, Nova's job wasn't to die or to face unnecessary danger, things Nova now considered to be real possibilities in every moment they stayed in the Frozen Forest.

They turned back to the hallway and once again put off a casual demeanor; a minute or so later, Nova had made it back to the familiar pillars surrounding the Ballroom. Nova also saw a young woman bawling her eyes out in the chest of a stern-looking noblewoman, passing through them and glancing for a second like a disinterested person looks at an empty store window, now wanting not to get involved in anything at the time being. They didn't show much expressions either, the only thing that betrayed Nova's aloof demeanor was their eyes briefly rolling: they had seen a man trying to stare at the pair from the edges and assumed he was a leering pervert.

Now inside the Ball itself, Nova peered through the large space and saw the lavish refreshments to the sides, along with an older woman scolding a blonde girl for stuffing her face with sweets. Her acquaintances were still around, Marihime and co., and that was comforting, but only made Nova's experiences more uncomfortably surreal in their eyes. Frustratingly, however, Grimes was nowhere in sight. But then Nova remembered the smoking norms in this land and had a hunch that he'd be in an open space: they were correct when they walked around the room's edges and then headed to the balcony, somehow thinking that walking in a straight line towards the balcony was too obvious.

At last, Nova saw the man that had caused all this, hiding their pent-up rage, but then also looked at Ymir, and smiled awkwardly. "Heeey there, mind giving us a moment." The space-alien pulled the older man a meter away and very unsubtly pulled at his jacket while whispering: "Hey Grimes, there's something weird going on here and I don't like it. An unmapped part of the multiverse, with some very funny laws of physics, stuff that shouldn't happen with quantum probability is happening on a macro-scale, like over and over." Grimes, unflustered, replied "What?" Nova buzzed, "This castle is magical. That or I've been drugged, but I don't consider this place safe. We're heading back to the saucer, NOW! Just as soon as I give the King this book...then we get to a patent office and go home, because—"

Her 'bodyguard' simply said "Hey, don't look at me, I made up for my mistake." Still unconvinced, Nova glared, but then Grimes continued, "that's Ymir, Ymir Viggo Aynard Syrén; his family owns silver and gold mines."

Nova blinked at the sound of such a beautiful phrase, almost immediately letting go of the old man and lightly pushing him away but not before handing him the book and barking at him not to open it. The space-alien's voice once-grating and demanding voice suddenly got lighter and softer, and approaching Ymir, Nova even leaned towards him as if to emphasize her barely-existing curves, coyly smiling: "Hiiii." Imitating what they had seen throughout the night, Nova even extended their hand, almost as if they were waiting for it to get held or kissed.

by **Scornerse** » Tue Nov 02, 2021 12:57 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:
Two rattlesnakes slithered about in the court, each an exotic predator growing out of the dirt and mud. The snakes went along, speaking to the other animals and exerting their wills on the jungles inhabitants. One snake was a master of whispers, offering sweet lies and vicious accusations, the other not so different. Eventually the snakes met and sized one another up. "What sharp fangs you have." One remarked, and the other replied "fangs are useless without venom and yours is the most potent in the jungle. Let's be friends you and I, and nothing will be able to stop us." (The Ballad of the Moonshards)

Fjolla Saskia looked into the eyes of the beast of prey before her. Her reflection smiled back, and the Fjolla nodded her head vigorously at the closure to what was sure to be a productive partnership. Adrenaline pumped through her system; it reminded her of her early days in the orphanages of Pigs Hollow, the poor neighborhoods in the Riverlands Region where Saskia had been born and raised. Saskia's perception of Sartana was that of someone who thrived on conflict and would not accept an equal, perhaps not even the King, in regards to her authority. Naturally the threats rolled off Saskia like water, if that was what would be required for Sartana to cooperate with the Torgeirists then the Fjolla would bear the disgrace with pride.

"A wise decision, your grace. Your concerns are duly noted. Shall I see you back to the ballroom?" There was nothing else to be said as far as Saskia was concerned. Results would speak for themselves, when the King has eyes for no one but Sartana. When the path to power is paved in bodies and blood who would find themselves atop that tower of cards? It was the Fjolla's job to ensure that as few Torgeirists as possible were counted among the casualties, and that meant the spilling of sweat here at this ball. Time would tell whether Sartana was someone who could be counted on to fulfill her promises.

"No, I will enter first. You insist that the Torgeirists will take over in time, but that also means that you're not there yet. There's no need for you to feign any disappointment, you have an image to keep up with your fellows after all, but I can't have you walking alongside me in smug triumph. I need to reassure the Catholic Sister that I offered you a promise of secularism, which, strictly speaking, isn't a false. I think it's unlikely that either of us get what we want if I participate in gratuitous slighting of Catholics. So you following in after me but not with me is what I ask of you."

With that, Sartana left, heading back to the ballroom, for the purpose of putting an acceptable spin on her meeting Fjolla. Having exclusive support from the Torgeirists was good, but Sartana worried that if it came with even mild opposition from the catholic clergy that at best it's be a wash. Sartana wanted at least an indifferent in tolerance from them toward her and that would require being open to hearing their concerns when it was clear that she knew they had them. Obviously they'd inherently concerned to seeing a Catholic head off with a scheming pagan and as left with Follja, Sister Kaja had said as much when she asked for her not to leave.

But it would be her getting the last word in this religious conflict. Not that Sartana expected to hear anything that'd see her betray Follja. It would take an absolute and immediate commitment from the catholic clergy to her cause for that. Were she to receive that and become queen on that basis, she'd support ruthlessly persecuting the Torgeirists on their behalf if that's what they desired. But realistically there was no way she'd get that sort of support, even it weren't for the fact that Eleanore presented a 'more' pious option for them. That was before one considered the fact that if the Torgeirists were capable of getting Ivan's to commit to her, it suggested they had enough influence over him that there could be such a thing as an overabundance of catholic support.

Sartana approached Sister Kaja almost apologetically.

"Forgive me, sister, I was raised to consider it a strength to not be afraid of being in the presence of someone with different values, but to use it as an oppertunity to profess them through one's steadfastness in the face of temptation, however I understand why you were concerned. I let her know that I am in alignment with King Ivan's own religious tolerance as I understand it, though I will maintain my commitment to Catholicism."

Sartana said, her words, having been carefully chosen on her way to Sister Kaja to avoid lying except perhaps by omission.

by **Himmenfell** » Sun Nov 14, 2021 6:01 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:"It would be my honor to show you around Princess" anything to get away from that inane skald. All nearby eyes were on Frigg and Ari throughout the brief introduction and there was a collective surprise at the bald bluntness that Ruby had displayed. Skalds were not court fools so such an insult was not something taken in jest, it was a direct and intentional insult on the Crown Prince's person, and were it anyone else would have been met with severe retaliation. Frigg for her part was noticed for restraint at the smell of metaphorical blood, something perhaps surprising to those who had already seen the likes of the other suitors. It was welcome if nothing else, the reminder that even foreigners could adhere to court manners without trying to bend them for their own gain.

The crowds general acceptance of Frigg was not lost on Ari as he turned to lead the Princess through the throngs of people. They parted wordlessly and Ari slipped through. From the side a man approached and Ari acknowledged him with a curt nod. "Princess Frigg, this is my bodyguard Rollo Halvardson. He served on my brothers detail before, and then my sisters and now mine." Rollo bowed "Welcome to the Palace Princess, please pay me no mind." The guard fell back behind Ari and Frigg and trailed them.

The ballroom itself was magnificent and massive. A marble testament to the wealth and power of the nation, attended to by servants who ran along like worker ants to deliver food and drinks to tables, clean the floors, attend to the guests and otherwise deal with whatever business the nobility needed done. Ari led Frigg along at first towards the right side of the room, which was filled with scores of circular wooden tables atop which lay gentle white linens. Guests sat among them, drinking and eating and socializing with each other, or crying alone over a bottle as one young woman seemed to be.

Distress crossed Ari's face and he stopped suddenly at the sight. "Rollo come here" the Prince demanded, and Rollo complied. Speaking in a low voice Ari pointed the crying woman out. "Go and see what what the problem is. If you can handle it, handle it." Rollo nodded and began to cross through the crowd to the wounded soul. Ari turned towards Frigg and gestured around. "This is the dining area. On the opposite side of the room are the buffet tables, everything is provided courtesy of the crown so feel free to enjoy yourself."

Without missing a beat Ari kept on, moving towards the other end of the room. An imposing throne beheld them there, and Ari stopped before it, considering it for a long moment before gently running his hand down the fine marble. "There are thrones throughout the Palace, wherever meetings or gatherings are held. This is where the my father and now my brother receive the court during balls such as this. It would appear that he remains absent however."

"Would you care to dance?" Ari looked to Frigg and held his hand out to her. The ballroom stood before them, hundreds of souls also dancing around, spinning to the rhythmic melody. Conveniently Ari had left out mention of the various side rooms adjoining the ballroom, particularly the old bar where the sailors and soldiers were restricted to drinking.

Frigg looked the prince up and down as he asked her to dance. Absolutely not! she thought to herself. It wasn’t just that she didn’t trust him, although that was also very much a part of what made her reluctant to accept the dance. It was also a point of vulnerability. She had received dancing lessons back in Himmenfell when she was a teenager, but she was never any good at it. It wasn’t that she was clumsy; if Prince Ari would’ve asked her to a gymnastics competition or better yet, a boxing match, she would’ve been in her element. Grace and precision weren’t the issue. It was having to follow someone else’s lead. She’d never been any good at that. To add to that, she hadn’t danced since she left Himmenfell. Well, not like this anyway.
“I’d be delighted to.” she told him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and the dance began. Come on Frigg, you can do this. You’ve killed men twice your size, you can handle a dance, you silly girl. The dance went on. It wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated. Wanting to draw attention away from her performance and learn anything that might give her an advantage over the other suitors, Frigg struck up a conversation. “So what does the younger brother of a King do in the Frozen Forrest? I’m a younger sibling myself, so I understand the peculiarity of being so close, yet so very far away from the throne.”

by **A m e n r i a** » Tue Nov 16, 2021 10:15 am

Heheh the ice queen..or Duchess, defrosted! At least a little bit. Okay, maybe it was a tiny crack, but come on, she liked that joke! Too bad I'm on my own after this though...

Yali nodded. "Yeah, whatever your kid said, it must've been important. Well, thanks again for the conversation." Yali bowed back to the Duchess. To the citizens Frozen Forest, the Duchess may outrank her, but to Yali, any foreign noble outside the four ranks with Amenrian equivalent are equals - at least those not actively ruling. She looked around to scan the room. Indeed, the clergy people she was asked to address were still there. It was time for her to take the initiative. Sister Kaja. That was the nun's name. With a spring in her step, she walked towards her as her ponytail bounced to the click clack of her steps.

Hands to the side, she bowed to Kaja. "Sister Kaja? I am Yali, Baroness of the Ramadhan Family, pleased to meet you. Would you care to spare a moment, please? I have a proposition."

by **The Holy Solar Empire** » Fri Nov 26, 2021 12:39 am

"Breaking up will give us the best opportunity to both find the King and free the court photographer. Leopold you don't hold any rank in the Frozen Forestrian Navy, but that shouldn't impede you. My men will follow you if they believe that you're working under my orders. Do whatever is necessary to keep them in line and free Seraria, though take every avenue before spilling blood if it should come to that. I'll travel with Eleanore to find and talk to the King."

Eleanore

"A sound plan Admiral, then I am in your care until such a time as I may be reunited with my Knight." Eleanore made her way over to the Admiral and stood at his side while Leopold took in the Admirals directions to the dungeons. The two Imperials felt that the Admiral was now firmly at a similar wavelength to them at this point, all three knowing that there was no going back, that they were committed to uncovering this plot and potentially preventing a disaster from occurring.

"Take care while I am away Eleanore" Leopold said as he gave Eleanore a small pat on the head before turning to the Admiral. "I promise I'll show restraint if things escalate, hopefully we're dealing with a false alarm, either way we'll smoke out this rat and preserve the honor his Kingdom" And without further time wasted, the Knight departed along the oath the Admiral directed him to take, leaving Eleanore with Aron to find the King, and hopefully quickly.

With a exhausted breath Eleanore turned to Aron, clearly tired but unwilling to give in just yet, a part of her fathers stubbornness one could say. "And so our journey begins, where do you think we should start looking?"

Leopold

Leopold was making his way to the dungeons with haste, swiftly moving through the palace through the paths less traveled. Running through the halls and discreetly moving when needed was nothing new to him, he had done so plenty of times in the past, of course in his youth to escape the homes of ladies he payed a visit, and later on when in the countless battles he had fought in, it was always good to be swift on ones feet when moving in "hostile" territory.

Leopold was still unsure of what was exactly going on, something was biting him and he felt partially at fault for not being able to better protect Eleanore from this poisoning, indirect or otherwise. He felt that he must pay some sort of penance at the end of this whole affair, for he gave far to much credit to the capability of this kingdoms security, a mistake which may cost him his status this gets out, and that would be if he was particularly lucky, Eleanore's father was not the forgiving type after all.

But damn the status and comfortable living, right now he needed to get to the dungeons and meet up with the Sailors, Seraria was in need of aid, and no self respecting knight could ignore the cries of a damsel. It took him partially no time until he had managed to reach the dungeons, near where the sailors where to meet up before their "assault" would begin. Leopold closed his eyes and prepared himself for what was to come, he'll message Eleanore only when it was time to move in or when the Sailors needed assurance, either way he was sure they'd be here soon.

by **The Frozen Forest** » Sun Jan 30, 2022 3:33 am

A steady breeze flowed through the trees and flowers of the Royal Garden followed by a steady whirring as the branches and petals rose and fell. Distantly one of the local saw-whet owls cawed a somber too-too-too to be answered by a firmer hoo-hoo-h-h-hoo of a tawny owl. Despite the vocalized danger one particularly heavy mouse slipped out of his burrow and skittered across the ground. Skitter skitter pitter patter the mouse jumped over the leaf. A pair of nocturnal eyes twisted like spotlights but the mouse pitter pattered on. The mouse's pace quickened and it jumped from one low hanging tree root to another. It had made this journey before in it's youth and it knew the way better than any other mouse in the garden.

The mouse jumped off the tree root and narrowly avoided the soft crunch of a underfoot leaf. It was almost to his destination. Was that a tasty berry bush up ahead? The mouse could smell the soft plum berry juice as it picked up it's pace for a second time, haphazardly racing across the open ground towards the ever encroaching berry bush. SLAM! a weight hit the mouse from the side, causing it to tumble. The mouse rolled and tried to regain it's footing but it was no use. The mouse smacked into a particularly crunchy leaf and it's fate was sealed. From above a terror swept down and the mouse began to run back towards it's nest, but it was no use! With a horrifying scream the mouse was swept up by the claws of a night raptor.

Near the berry bush there sat another mouse, smaller this time. As it watched it's larger competitor be carried away into the night it almost seemed to snicker, a faint grin spreading across it's rodentine lips. The smaller mouse crept towards the berry bush, to a feast that would go unshared.

__

Sir Leon Mayr dashed along through the garden over a thin dirt path. Even without his ceremonial armor his footfalls were particularly heavy and Leon wondered if it wouldn't be more prudent to discard his gambeson as well. How much further until he'd find solid stone ground and properly maintained rows of flowers and exotic plants? Leon couldn't remember that gardens being this large, which probably meant he'd entered them at one of the deepest ends. Thankfully guard patrols even this far in weren't going to be common, at least Leon doubted that they would be. With that in mind he allowed himself some measure of carelessness as he traipsed closer to the center of the garden.

"...Yeah well I heard that The National Polar Party is plannin' some kind of rally in front of the palace tomorrow. I guess they're upset about having so many foreigners here to court His Majesty. Once we're off shift I'll have to call Egrid and tell her to forget about bringing me lunch in the morning. I wouldn't want her to get caught up in all that."

Leon peered through the underbrush. No less than a stones throw away from him stood two royal guardsmen in their full ceremonial armor. If they hadn't been talking so loudly Leon would have no doubt ran right into them. For the moment at least, he was off the path and out of view. What were they talking about, The National Polar Party? As far as Leon knew those were just fringe lunatics who liked to scream about blood purity and the "Polar Race." Were they really planning a rally the next day, and if so why wasn't the guard erecting barricades and defenses around the outer perimeter of the palace. Surely this was a threat to the King and to the suitors present, and Leon doubted Ivan would just sit idly by.

I've got another job to handle right now. I'll just have to remember to bring it up to His Majesty once I've met up with him. Still, how am I going to get past these guards?" Leon couldn't see a way to get past the bushes and trees without attracting noise, save for removing his prized gambeson. It was a fine piece, imported from the colonies and prohibitively expensive. Leon slipped it off his body and set it against a tree, making a mental note of where he thought he was so that he could come back and retrieve it later.

Leon crawled along the ground, past bushes and through thin gaps in the trees until he successfully slipped past the guards. That was easy enough. Leon got to his knees and stepped forwards, tripping over a thick root. The ground raced towards him and Leon braced. Crunch! The wind was knocked out of him and the shattered components of a glass garden light pricked at his torso. Leon hauled himself to his feet and looked down at the mess he'd made. His shirt was torn where he'd caught himself on the broken glass. Leon might have cursed but he was more upset that he'd ruined a perfectly good shirt. As it turned out he wasn't so sure footed among brambles and roots as he was on the marble palace dance floor.

__

Leon walked along stone tiles towards the center of the garden. The middle rim still had it's overgrown, unmaintained patches of plants but at least had some basic modicum of decency in regards to it's layout. Wooden signs stood out from the dirt to direct visitors towards varying destinations and one such post clearly directed Leon towards the center of the garden, where he was sure to find the King. These were paths that he knew and had traversed before so he wasn't so worried about the guards despite their more frequent patrols. Whenever the king's men would pass by he would duck out of sight on either side of the path and wait for them to pass before going on his way.

Garden Center the sign pointed confidently towards the right path. Leon swore he could almost hear the sounds of voices close by, though they sounded tense. Leon hadn't considered why His Majesty had come to the garden at such an important time as the ball, but now he began to wonder if it had something to do with this National Polar Party rally that the guards had been talking about. If that were the case though, why did Leon hear the sound of a women's voice as well as his King's?

"...Maybe we should head back inside the Palace?" Leon heard a snippet of the conversation clearly, followed by the sound of metal boots coming down his stone path. As he had before Leon slipped off the path and watched as the guardsmen came into view. On the gardens outer rim there were almost no garden lights so Leon had been made to count on sound to avoid the guard but here in the center of the garden it was well lit and the guardsmen shone brilliantly in their expensive, ornate armor. It would be hard to not see them coming.

Leon leaned close to the tree and held his breath As the guards came fully into view. Thump, thump, thump. Leon stayed absolutely still, a bead of sweat rolling down his head. Your Majesty, I humbly apologize for interrupting your present conversation. It is unbefitting for someone of my station to bother you while you're indisposed and I surely expect you to punish me for such a transgression. As your loyal Knight I resign myself to whatever judgement you pass on me, but I implore you to hear me now, sire... Leon plotted what he was going to say in his head as the guards closed in.

Hands took hold of Leon's shoulders and a heavy weight through him onto the path of the guardsmen. Leon couldn't react, merely hitting the stone with a thump. ohh Leon looked up from the ground to see the two guardsmen looking down on him in shock. What the... Leon peered towards where he'd just been standing to see nothing but empty space.

"You there! What are you doing? This part of the gardens is off limits, you shouldn't be here! On you're feet!" The guards rushed Leon, who tried to rise and escape only to be caught and have his arm twisted behind his back. Leon stifled a grimace, he was a Knight after all and couldn't show weakness to men like these. "What are you, a Kuronamian assassin?! Speak damn you!" One of the guards drove his fist into Leon's stomach. "Or maybe you're a Mervayan. Huh? I bet Queen Callista is paying you handsomely to sneak in here and stab our King in the back. Scum like you deserve nothing less than a swift hanging. Oh you can bet that they'll have a fun time with you in the dungeon Mervayan." Leon felt something hit his jaw, sending shockwaves through his body.

"Enough of that, what is wrong with you two?" A new voice reached Leon's ears and he looked ahead to see a handsome young man walking up to them. Leon recognized him immediately.

Sir Harold Wulf

"Unhand Sir Mayr at once or I'll have your heads by noon tomorrow." The threat hung in the air and Leon could sense the guards hesitation. They released him and stood off to the sides of the path as Sir Wulf approached. "Sir, we thought he was a Mervayan spy. We didn't recognize Sir...Mayr...without his armor." The guards tried to reason with Sir Wulf, who ignored them and came close to Leon. "I apologize for that Sir Mayr. I take it you're here to speak to the King? Well you can't be seen by His Majesty wearing that tattered mess. Pip! Help me with my armor."

A tall and lanky squire appeared whom Leon recognized as Jormund Piper or "Pip" as Sir Wulf called him. The fellow set to work on his masters ceremonial garb. "That's not necessary Sir Wulf." Leon protested, but Sir Wulf would have none of it and waved him off. "I'd be remiss if I let His Majesty see you in your current state and in any case..." Sir Wulf's armor came loose and Wulf pressed the thick chest plate towards Leon. "...I wasn't asking."

__

Leon stood awkwardly before the section of road which led to His Majesty. Sir Wulf's armor wasn't a good fit for him but Leon still couldn't help but feel immense gratitude for the young Knight. Sir Wulf was his junior, in fact Sir Wulf was one of the newest Knights to have entered His Majesty's service and yet despite that it had been Sir Wulf to have appeared and rescued Leon from what could have been an rough couple of nights in the dungeons.

Leon composed himself and strode forwards into view. This was a secluded spot, not quite the center of the garden but a bit out of the way. If Leon had followed the signs he might have actually missed His Majesty entirely and have gotten lost. Providence it would seem was with him and the Khana.

My Thoughts

His Majesty never ceases to surprise me. When my father first brought me to court I'd stood among the other boys. I was neither the strongest nor the most intelligent. I'd neglected my studies, broken every rule I'd ever known and had gotten carried away with plenty of pretty young girls. I was a troubled youth to say the least and if It weren't for my father I'd have likely ended up a drunken scoundrel drifting from town to town bedding women and swindling better men than I. My father believed in me though and used his connections to secure me a spot with other prospective candidates. The Order of Amber Sun. Dressed from head to tow in fine aristocratic clothing we'd waited patiently for the King to arrive. We were disappointed when news came that the King was indisposed and would not be able to attend, but that his eldest son would arrive in his stead.

His Majesty was the picture of royal pride at that time. He must have been twenty at the time, I myself was just ten. His Majesty had walked up and down the line of boys, most of which regarded him with a respectful bow and greeting. I hated etiquette. I hated how the other boys flattered this pompous silver spooned snob. When His Majesty passed me I scowled and met his eyes. In hindsight I could have been punished severely for such an act of defiance, but this was also at a time when The Royal Family were struggling for influence against the then socialist government. For whatever reason His Majesty continued on down the line and later that day I learned that I was the only one of the boys that would be allowed to join the order. A week later I was in a carriage on my way back to the capital to be squired to Sir Tyr and then later, His Majesty himself.

So much has happened since then. The order broke my defiant attitude quickly, and I spent my days hunched over books and swinging a sword. I didn't understand at the time why we weren't allowed to practice with guns, after all how could we protect the King without knowing how to shoot properly? We weren't guardsmen though, and our jobs while similar were not the same. I begrudgingly learned how to speak Kyrenaian, Selkie and a handful of other languages to varying degrees of fluency.

Then His Majesty, King Alvor died and then Crown Prince Ivan ascended to the throne. Since then things progressed rapidly. The socialists were overthrown and the monarchy's power was fully restored. Ivan reorganized the court (though frankly I'd never seen the court is so much turmoil and paranoia as it was now) and reasserted Frozen Forestrian military presence across the colonies. Then came the rumors of Crown Prince Ari and his attempts to win supporters for a bid to take the crown. The practical approach for His Majesty would have been to exile Ari and his supporters, but His Majesty lacked a wife, sons and daughters of his own. To exile the Crown Prince would be to invite the Valgardian Movement to try and seize power.

And so His Majesty finally agreed to throw a ball in which suitors from across the world would be invited. Here I am now, having promised my support to Khana Amina and her young daughter Marla. Afterall she seemed earnest in her affections for the King which was surely more honest than the motivations of the other suitors. I'm not sure when I turned into such a romantic, but I couldn't help myself-I had to help the Khana. I snuck into the gardens, abandoning my precious armor and even my ornate gambeson to reach this point. I was pushed by something or someone, the guards had caught me and Sir Wulf had come to my rescue. This night has been full of surprises, but I have to admit nothing was quite as surprising as what I saw before me now.

His Majesty stood rigidly apart from a brown haired beauty, Princess Asha Lisanne Cärrino of Brettenwald. I'd seen her face before in pictures and I'd heard the gossip that had spread through the palace when her invitation was sent out. Evidently she was one of the favorites by the court for a number of reasons, but I could see that apart from her family name and country of origin that she was a character all on her own. For one thing she was taller than I'd imagined she'd be.

They stood apart from one another and an uneasy tension filled the air. Why was His Majesty alone here with her? Had I interrupted some sort of love confession? That was my first thought, and my initial instinct was to retreat before His Majesty and his guest saw me. I couldn't bring myself to move my feet, I'd come so far into the gardens and Sir Wulf had even stuck his neck out for me. I couldn't turn back now. Besides Khana Amina and Princess Marla were counting on me!

Leon cleared his throat loudly and marched forwards towards the King with all the dignity he could muster. Once he was a few paces away he dropped onto his knee and bowed reverently. "Your Majesty. I apologize for interrupting you at this time while you are indisposed with one of your guests. I approach you now on behalf of Khana Amina of Sheliak. She has asked me to seek you out and arrange a time for you two to speak with one another." Leon abandoned his prior speech in favor of a direct approach, all the while averting his gaze from Princess Asha. So far as he should be concerned she was not there, she did not exist.

Sigrid nibbled at the corner of her cat cupcake, biting off one of the felines vanilla flavored ear tips. Sweet! The wonderful taste of sugary vanilla sprang sparks across the girls tongue. "Eeee!" Sigrid screwed her face up and let out a tiny satisfied squeal, her expression giving way to a look of ecstasy. Why did food have to taste so good anyways? The girl standing apart from Sigrid, Princess Marla bint-Amina had accepted her cupcake and Sigrid's proposal of friendship, but saying you're friends was one thing. What really mattered was what Marla did in the next couple seconds. Sigrid leaned forwards, staring like a hawk as Marla brought her cupcake to her lips and snatched a absentminded bite.

"That's good." Sigrid gave a little bounce and threw her arms around Marla, an excited giggling filling the air around them. Whatever reservations Sigrid had regarding Marla seemed to evaporate with the girls agreement on the delectability of their cute little pastries. Like an alcoholic who just found a new drinking buddy, Sigrid began to chatter unintelligibly to Marla, the topic turning to the sweets at the buffet table. "...Lemon tarts, custard tarts, canelé, cupcakes, vatrushka, anpan, kringle, pain aux raisins, cinnamon rolls, lokma, danishes, empanadas, strudel, profiterole, brioche, éclair, mooncakes...Ooh!! I bet you've never had frosted maize, have you?" Sigrid let a beat pass and opened her mouth to speak again...

"You're Princess Marla bin-Amina aren't you? You're a Selkie Princess."

The source of the voice was a girl roughly the same age as Sigrid. She wore a green plaid dress of sorts and her hair was messy but messy in a way that seemed to suggest a wild fierceness and stubborn determination. The girl curtsied awkwardly and met Sigrid's eyes. The girl crossed her arms and regarded the blonde haired sweet-lover. "You must be Sigrid then. You've got cream on your cheek." The girl did a rubbing motion on her own cheek and Sigrid flushed, quickly wiping away the cream fluff.

There was a clattering of heels and two more girls came into sight. Just as the first girl had done, these two newcomers curtsied to Marla and Sigrid. The first of the girls spoke up "My name is Lynn Maddock, this-" Lynn gestured to the younger girl of the trio "-is my sister Meggan and she-" Lynn gestured to the girl wearing the multi-colored dressed "-is my cousin Mona."

"So is it true that you're a Princess, and you're selkie??" Mona Maddock posed the question and her cousins went silent, evidently curious. All three girls gazed down at Marla and Sigrid quickly stepped forwards, waving her hands dismissingly "so what if she is, and anyways we were just about to go get some more snacks..." Sigrid looked towards Marla, her expression displaying her mixed thoughts plainly. If she doesn't want to answer your question, she doesn't have to.

Ymir stepped aside as a small dark haired alien appeared onto the balcony, swiftly stealing away Grimes for a private conversation. It wasn't hard to guess who this was: Nova of Air Fleet. A steady breeze passed over them and Ymir leaned against the railing as Grimes and Nova whispered away. Ymir looked out over the forest below, watching the pines shutter and shake without a care in the world. What cares did a tree have, Ymir wondered. I want water. I want sunlight. A tree didn't need to watch out for rivals from above and below. A tree wouldn't know of the horrid fates that befell the losers in the great game of politics and business. They swayed and swooned while he grappled with the reality that his father could die at any minute.

Distantly Ymir heard a quiet too-too-too from the direction of the Royal Gardens. "Hiiii" a soft voice called out to him and Ymir craned his neck to see Nova smiling coyly at him, her body cocked forwards to suggest a kittenish disposition. Ymir might have thought she was parodying the other ballroom ladies and yet her smile seemed earnest. It was a confusing sight and the change in Nova's demeanor was profoundly different from when she had initially appeared.

Ymir stepped forwards and bent down onto one knee. Confused as he might have been he was still a nobleman and it would have been inappropriate to spurn Nova's attempt at being friendly. Following standard etiquette Ymir reached forwards and gently took Nova's outstretched hand. It was a remarkably small hand, almost like that of a child's. Gentler still Ymir leaned down and pressed his lips to Nova's bare skin briefly, ever briefly. Meeting Nova's eyes, Ymir couldn't help but observe that they vaguely remind him of a predatory animal on the hunt. "Miss Nova, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Ymir Viggo Aynard Syrén." A polite introduction followed by a practiced nobleman's smile, appropriately charming for an introduction.

~~~

*hic* "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know...I don't know what to do..." tears rolled down the young girls face accompanied by running mascara and blush. Kornelia rubbed her eyes to clear away the tears but they kept coming. Not now, not father! Kornelia's heart hammered away in her chest, she couldn't think past it's rhythmic, frantic beating. Kornelia couldn't breath, the stale crowded air of the ballroom burned her mouth and throat. She could smell chlorine and rubber and she could feel the sensation of a needle passing through her skin. The nurses were talking to each other. They whispered and Kornelia heard snatches of their conversation "fatal, no treatment, incurable" they looked at her with pity and she wanted to scream at them.

Kornelia was alone on the street. Ymir was there too, only a few feet away. Kornelia looked up into the sky, there was thunder. The rain began life as a sprinkle. Kornelia could feel the misty dew touching her face and hands, it was a pleasant spring shower. BOOM! CRACK! thunder struck down and rain poured from the heavens. It was dark and the sky was filled with the howling of the wind and the screaming of Valkyries. "dauði! dauði! dauði!" The Valkyries floated down from the heavens, chanting their violent prophesy. "Kornelia, I'm so hungry..." Kornelia looked to her brother. Ymir was faced down on the street wearing nothing but rags. His body was gaunt like a skeleton and his hair was gone. Kornelia looked down to see that she was in a similar state herself. "dauði! dauði! dauði!" The Valkyries called out as their voices grew louder, closer.

"No! I don't want to die!" Kornelia rocketed upwards in bed, her body covered in sweat and her heart still racing. Duchess Isabella sat in a wooden chair and was looking at her concerned. "My, my...How unusual." Kornelia turned to the sound of the voice to see a man dressed in a red and black plaid pajamas and bearing a stethoscope. "How are you feeling dear girl?" Kornelia watched the man's thick mustache wobble as he spoke. "I'm alright. Where am I?"

"Why dear girl, you're in one of the palace bedrooms. You collapsed, don't you remember?" Kornelia shook her head firmly. "Well you appear to be in order now, I'll take my leave." The doctor stood with a loud creak and exited the room, leaving Kornelia alone with Duchess Isabella. There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so before Kornelia finally spoke up. "How long was I...Indisposed?" It must have been hours, had her brother not stayed to check up on her? Where was he? "You've been out for about fifteen minutes, give or take. The doctor said that you experienced an extreme form of a panic attack.

"Oh..."

"Don't worry, I don't think anyone saw what happened. We were pretty close to the edge of the ballroom so it was easy to get you out unseen with the help of the guards. It goes without saying that you aren't to mention what just happened to anyone, not even your brother. You're a member of the nobility afterall and we don't do what you just did. Let's just say that the heat of the ballroom got to you and leave it at that."

"Thank you for your help Duchess, but why did you help me?" Isabella snorted reflexively "What was I supposed to do, leave you laying on the ground? You didn't give me much of a choice did you? Besides your family is powerful, no? I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me." Isabella signed and set down a small booklet she'd been holding. "I'm not your governess dear, I've got a ball to attend to. Now the doctor stationed a guard outside your room and he'll stay there until you're ready to leave. I highly suggest you take some time to get your affairs in order before you return to the ball." Isabella rose from her seat and exited the room. Kornelia's thoughts turned to her vision of Valkyries and death. Somehow it seemed more real than a panic attack.

~~~

A man crept through the corridors dressed in 18th century nobleman's attire. Despite the clumsiness of his footwear he moved almost without any noise at all. Occasionally a maid or a butler or a guard would round a corner or exit a room and just as suddenly the man would duck inside one room or another to avoid them. The Palace for all it's faults was still a massive organism and it was easy to get lost in it's labyrinthian halls. It was just so easy to also avoid the active patrols for that very same reason, as to check every single room one passed would be madness. Unlike most the man knew exactly where he was going and navigated easily until finally he came to a stop at one particular corner. The man peered around and down the corridor to see a guard standing attentively outside one of the palace bedrooms. This was a special bedroom, being particularly close to the nightly doctors quarters. Whenever someone was hurt in the middle of the night, or needed time to recoup under a medical professionals attention they would be brought here, to this particular bedroom.

The man brought his fingers close to his mouth and let out a loud whistle before ducking inside one of the nearby rooms. The man waited for the inevitable sound of footfalls. Just as he was about to give up hope he heard something rush past his room. The man waited for another thirty seconds before slipping out of the room and peering back around the corner. As suspected the guard had taken off at the sound of an emergency whistle. The man had to admit that the guards had become noticeably more incompetent under the new regime, almost as though the King were purging his own guard. The man slipped down the hallway until he stood outside of the massive wooden door. Wordlessly he slipped into the room.

Ruby Magnasson drifted along through the ballroom and occasionally stopped by certain patrons in order to give them his thoughts on whatever he happened to notice about them and find worthy of discussion. Together Ruby and his new conversation partner would discuss the finer details regarding politics, poetry, fashion or the wonderful food being served at the ball. When the conversation began to die out Ruby would chime in with a well placed couple of words and spark the discourse back to life. It was only after his patrons had been thoroughly charmed that Ruby would dismiss himself with a convenient excuse, leaving those around with a sense of respect for the skald.

It was after some time that Ruby drifted along and out onto the balcony. The air had begun to grow warmer and Ruby reveled in the feeling of a fine night breeze. Ruby soaked it in, and he looked to the moon for some measure of reassurance. Praise you, Bragi God of Poetry. Without you I would be lost for words. Praise your good name so that we may meet again in your hall to swap kennings and hagi. Ruby sent off a silent prayer and let it drift on the breeze.

Ruby stood along the railing. Not too far away were a trio of unusual folks, one of which Ruby recognized as the space alien Nova. Ruby considered joining in their conversation but thought better of it. Perhaps it would be better to talk to the children some distance away instead. There was Sigrid of course, thought it was odd for Ruby to see her out so late. Near her stood two very young looking girls and two girls around Sigrid's age, none of which Ruby recognized. Most likely they were debutantes, those girls who were finally being presented to the court in expectation of one day becoming a lady in waiting. Ruby always had a certain fondness for children but also decided against speaking to this particular group, given their serious looking conversation.

Finally Ruby's eyes settled on the figure of a tall, voluptuous women with tanned skin and long silvery hair. Her name was Khana Amina and she was one of the King's suitors. Ruby hadn't seen her in person before tonight and had to admit that she bore a particular resemblance to what he believed Jotun were supposed to look like. Maybe it was so that Khana Amina had jotunn blood in her: If that were true then who could guess whether she would be a good match for the King. Putting his religious views behind, Ruby knew that it was in his best interest to at least introduce himself to this potential queen.

"Atwitter the jotunn yearns for kings blood yonder the tallow sun. Yearly waiting in yellowing chastity cries she who wilts young. The fumes of failure drives along a fiesty fox, desires unmet by failing romances since past. Scandy is she of Yggdrasil's seed, harbinger of harrowed men whose voices hail harm and scorn. Songbirds sing of flattened fields whose ground is scorched, but newlife springs from words yet weaved, would a worry be born." Ruby began as he approached the Khana.

Admiral Aron proceeded out of the bar and into the ballroom alongside a faintly Princess Eleanore. His eyes scanned the room before them, gaze cascading over the crowd in search of shiny metal suits of armor or black suits and sunglasses. Past dancing noblemen and servants hurrying about the Admiral could pick out those Royal Guardsmen who were present within the ballroom and unusually it was just the amount of personnel one would expect during such an event. What made it unusual for Aron at least, was that the Admiral believed that The Royal Guard was likely to be carrying out a coup at that very minute. A rapid attack on the facilities of power throughout the palace, using the ball as a coverup in order to secure the King. Under those circumstances was it not reasonable to assume that the guard presence in the ballroom would be reduced in order to make as much use of their forces as possible?

A tiny seed of doubt nuzzled its way into Aron's heart, only further exaggerated as his eyes landed on his rival chess players King, the Head of Palace Security and Captain of The Royal Guard, Ivar Friis. The Admiral couldn't believe his eyes, he froze on the spot and stared until he was certain that it was indeed Captain Friis he was seeing. Could that be a double? No, a double couldn't be trusted to mingle with so many shakers of power, they would see right through a double. If it's not a double and this is indeed a coup, then Captain Friis is willing to risk his own neck to not rouse suspicion. I could arrest him right here. I could approach him unaware, draw my sword and have it to his neck before his guards had time to react. We can move this along and ensure the court photographer is seized and the coup fails, but then I'll have no choice but to destroy the Captain.

Aron mulled the thought over. Even if he did stop the coup there was no guarantee that His Majesty wouldn't side with Captain Friis at the end of the day. If that happened then Aron would be tried for treason and publicly executed-that is unless someone stepped in to protect him. Aron turned to Eleanore, who was looking to him expectedly. Had she said something? Oh, yes. "His Majesty isn't here in the ballroom, which means there are a few places he is likely to be. He could have retired to his chambers for the night, or he could have taken a stroll through the gardens to get some air; or he could have been called away for some urgent reason."

This was was more than just a social function, it was specifically thrown for His Majesty so that he could spend time with foreign suitors and find a wife. The Admiral couldn't see him simply disappearing on a whim, so more than likely his disappearance was only a temporary thing, that is unless the Guard has already taken him into custody.

A body rushed past Eleanore and the Admiral, racing for the restrooms adjacent to the ballroom. Following the girl with his eyes Aron saw that it wasn't just Eleanore who appeared to have been hit with a laxative, but at least thirty or so others who hung by the bathroom like a mariner clinging to driftwood. "Is it possible that His Majesty was also affected by the laxative?" Aron half whispered, just audible enough for Eleanore to catch what he was saying. "If His Majesty was poisoned as you have been, the ball would have been called off...No wait, that would let on that he was poisoned in the first place. His Majesty wouldn't risk the court and foreign leaders knowing that he was ill, not with the Crown Prince vying for influence and power. If he was poisoned he would have been taken to the court apothecarian. We could check there, but it's a long walk to that end of the palace."

Inevitably that left them with four options. They could proceed to the King's personal chambers to rouse him, though it would certainly be under heavy guard regardless of whether he was there or not. They could proceed to the royal gardens in the slight hope that he might have gone there for a reprieve from the party. They could go to the apothecary to see if he was being treated there, though that would certainly be heavily guarded as well if he were in fact sick, that would also leave them the option of meeting with the regular doctor on their way back. Finally they could assume the King had already been taken into custody by the guard and proceed with trying to free him, wherever he might be.

Him and Eleanore stood no chance of fighting through a guard contingent alone, so if he were in the custody of the guards, was in the care of the physicians or in his chambers then there would be no chance regardless for them to speak with him. That really only left them one avenue that they could check.

"Our best option right now would be to check the gardens."

Clack! Clack! Clack! Boots met stone floor and multiplied by two, five, ten. Civilians in the hallways scattered as the men came by, disappearing into random rooms or cowering against the walls. Occasionally the men would race towards a Royal Guardsmen or two who would turn towards the sound of the noise to see thirty men barreling towards them, armed with assault rifles and bulletproof vests. Inevitably the guards first reaction would be to try and stop the men, but then they would realize the futility of trying to stop so many men and would step aside to let them pass before calling their superiors and reporting what they saw. By the time the guard had sorted out the various sightings it would already be too late.

At the head of this stampede was a handsome young blond haired Captain from the Northern Territories. "Seaman Duncan once we've entered, secure the entrance. We don't want any Royal Guardsmen sneaking up on us from behind." Captain Hjoller spoke loudly as they ran, just loud enough for his entire unit to hear him clearly. No sooner had he spoke did they arrive at their first obstacle which was thankfully unguarded at the present time. The group descended the stairs and passed through the heavy wooden doors which marked the entrance to the palace dungeons. As ordered Seamen Duncan held back, securing a wooden barricade against the door, roughly made but thick enough to hold back a determined force for a couple minutes at the least.

Captain Hjoller took note of their turns as they went. Left, left, straight, right, straight a guardsmen appeared, armed with an assault rifle of his own and guarding a heavy wooden door that lead to the central corridor, where the Admiral was likely waiting for them. The guardsman heard the clattering of boots first, then saw the men. 29 bodies hurtling towards him, he raised his rifle "Halt!" The men came closer, the guard's heart began to race in his chest "Halt!" the guard cried; a moment later an elbow flew into his jaw and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.

***

The carpeted hallways of the outer dungeon gave way to stone as Captain Hjoller and his men approached the holding cells. Their rally point stood ahead and so did Admiral Aron Fältskog, their loyal commander. For the first time in the past hour Captain Hjoller considered the situation at hand and it was dizzying. The Captain forced the thought out of his mind and proceeded through another set of doors with his men. His eyes reached ahead of him and there stood a man neither guard nor sailor. Aron continued forwards quickly and then halted in front of the man.

The Captain looked up and down the man. Him being here at this spot precisely was no coincidence, which meant that either the Admiral had sent him here in his stead, or the man was a Royal Guardsmen who would try to stop them while reinforcements made their way to them. Either way it was best to resolve this quickly and efficiently. "I was ordered to organize here with my men. Who are you? Where is the Admiral?"

Sister Kaja turned her head at the sound of an oncoming voice. The nun met the gaze of a pretty young asian who introduced herself as Baroness Yali of the Ramadhan Family. Kaja would have been lying if she were to admit that she had any idea who this women before her was, save having heard the name as one of the suitors of at the court to try and win the crown. Nonetheless Kaja took the girls face to memory and returned her polite bow. It was possible the baroness Yali was a follower of Christ and that whatever matter she wanted to speak to Kaja regarding had nothing to do with gaining the support of the church (though she assumed that probably wasn't the case).

"A proposition, oh my." Kaja set down a small clipboard that she had been holding just as another voice spoke to her, calling her attention away. It was the returning Chieftess Sartana who had gone off to speak with the Torgeirist Fjolla. Kaja didn't expect to see her return but wouldn't complain either way; she'd lost all too many of her flock already.

Sartana spoke first and spoke apologetically. "Our lord God is merciful and great. You wouldn't want to risk your chances with His Majesty by supporting our Ch-!" A hand touched Kaja's shoulder firmly and she froze. Father Oswald stepped past her and approached Sartana. "Fjolla Saskia is a untruthful satan-worshipper. Whatever lies she's filled your mind with, they aren't true. She and the rest of her coven have been harassing and stealing away our flock in droves, it's an outrage! His Majesty's father King Alvor never allowed for such an egregious and blatant assault on the faith. Chieftess Sartana, you are a good catholic are you not? How can you say that you'll merely stand by and allow your brothers and sisters in faith to suffer!"

Father Oswald stood inches away from Sartana, his body trembling with rage. "Look at the court, do you see how it's fallen into discord and chaos? Men and women alike choosing between the King and his brother, factionalism at it's worst! The church would have never allowed this to happen. You must support the church and you must convince the King to do the same or you risk everything."

Kaja looked at Sartana confused and then to the Baroness Yali. "...Your proposal, oh yes. while Father Oswald and the Chieftess talk, you and I can discuss your proposal." Kaja stepped back and led the way to a isolated corner of the ballroom. "What would you like to discuss?"

She stalked through the gardens in pursuit. When the time came she lurched forwards and with all of her might shoved the man onto the cobblestone path, then like the shadow of a ghost she was gone again into the night, shrouded by shadows to watch a game of royalty and slaves.

King Ivan glanced away from Sir Leon and towards Asha. Ivan wasn't sure how to respond to such an inappropriate request or the audacity of Leon to make it. Even more unusual and audacious as the request was coming from one of his sworn knights and one of his own wards. Ivan had known Leon for some time and had never known him to be prone to flights of fancy of this caliber. If nothing else it demonstrated that Leon felt too comfortable with him and would need to be set back into his place.

Then again it wasn't as though Ivan could deny the request altogether without it being seen as an insult to the Khana, which left him in a tricky spot on whether to discipline Leon then and there or respond promptly and dismiss him. Ivan cursed under his breath and reached into his cloak to pull out a small golden stopwatch. It was about 10:30 PM. He still planned on meeting with Sartana, but after that he could definitely meet with the Khana.

The ball was still ongoing even after eight hours of nonstop drinking, dancing and mingling and would continue until the palace ran out of food or drinks (an unlikely prospect, but possible), all the guests had retired to their homes and quarters (equally unlikely given that guests would still be arriving from around the country) or it fizzled out on it's own sometime in the early morning the next day (the most likely result). While the ball wouldn't be ending anytime soon, his suitors and himself would no doubt have to disappear themselves in order to get rest for the next days festivities.

"Sir Leon I'm sure you're aware that slipping past my guards and approaching me at this hour for anything short of an emergency is a both extremely rude and a punishable offense. You and I will have a conversation regarding this, but for now...." Ivan looked down at his stopwatch for a second time, measuring time in his head. "If the Khana hasn't retired to her quarters by then, relay to her that we can speak in the west wing library, my personal library, at 11:15. In the meantime the Khana has a young girl by the name of Marla, you will inquire with the Khana regarding Marla's bedtime and if necessary you will lead the Khana's daughter to her guest quarters. The Khana, her daughter and the other suitors are all staying in the royal guestrooms. You will then accompany the Khana to the library at the appointed time, then you will wait outside until we are done talking, where you will then show the Khana to her quarters. Is that all understood Sir Leon? You are dismissed. Leave out of the front entrance this time."

"Yes my liege, your word is my command" Leon rose to his feet, bowed politely and stepped backwards several paces so that he was consistently facing towards the King and Asha, before spinning on his heel and continuing on his way out of the gardens.

Sir Leon Mayr felt all of the blood leave his face as the King repremanded him. A king's justice was always particularly harsh, it was a characteristic of the Bjork rulership and had been since they united the nation over a thousand years prior. Even if he and His Majesty were relatively close, Leon would face the whip at the very minimum. Was it worth it though, to have delivered such a message for a near-midnight rendezvous? Absolutely. Leon felt no regret as has passed through the doors which led from the ballroom to the gardens and vice versa. On the other end he ran into a surprised looking Lucy Farehollow, a personal servant of His Majesties and someone who Leon had difficulties with.

"How did you get into the gardens?"

"I'm friends with the one eyed ogre who watches the back gate."
Great now she's sneering at me like I'm the problem here.

Leon shook his head and proceeded on his way to the balcony, just in time to see the a man approach the Khana. Leon knew this man well, Ruby Magnasson was well known for his kennings and poetry, and he was a personal friend of His Majesty. He enjoyed the King's protection in a way most people would envy, but he didn't let it go to his head. Leon started towards the Khana and wondered what it was they were talking about.

by **Scornerse** » Mon Jan 31, 2022 9:15 pm

The Frozen Forest wrote:
Sister Kaja turned her head at the sound of an oncoming voice. The nun met the gaze of a pretty young asian who introduced herself as Baroness Yali of the Ramadhan Family. Kaja would have been lying if she were to admit that she had any idea who this women before her was, save having heard the name as one of the suitors of at the court to try and win the crown. Nonetheless Kaja took the girls face to memory and returned her polite bow. It was possible the baroness Yali was a follower of Christ and that whatever matter she wanted to speak to Kaja regarding had nothing to do with gaining the support of the church (though she assumed that probably wasn't the case).

"A proposition, oh my." Kaja set down a small clipboard that she had been holding just as another voice spoke to her, calling her attention away. It was the returning Chieftess Sartana who had gone off to speak with the Torgeirist Fjolla. Kaja didn't expect to see her return but wouldn't complain either way; she'd lost all too many of her flock already.

Sartana spoke first and spoke apologetically. "Our lord God is merciful and great. You wouldn't want to risk your chances with His Majesty by supporting our Ch-!" A hand touched Kaja's shoulder firmly and she froze. Father Oswald stepped past her and approached Sartana. "Fjolla Saskia is a untruthful satan-worshipper. Whatever lies she's filled your mind with, they aren't true. She and the rest of her coven have been harassing and stealing away our flock in droves, it's an outrage! His Majesty's father King Alvor never allowed for such an egregious and blatant assault on the faith. Chieftess Sartana, you are a good catholic are you not? How can you say that you'll merely stand by and allow your brothers and sisters in faith to suffer!"

Father Oswald stood inches away from Sartana, his body trembling with rage. "Look at the court, do you see how it's fallen into discord and chaos? Men and women alike choosing between the King and his brother, factionalism at it's worst! The church would have never allowed this to happen. You must support the church and you must convince the King to do the same or you risk everything."

Kaja looked at Sartana confused and then to the Baroness Yali. "...Your proposal, oh yes. while Father Oswald and the Chieftess talk, you and I can discuss your proposal." Kaja stepped back and led the way to a isolated corner of the ballroom. "What would you like to discuss?"

Since Father Oswald had already stepped in her personal space during his trembling rant, Sartana felt it acceptable to put her left hand firmly on his right shoulder, to project friendliness and control, while also allowing her to take a couple steps back without it looking like she was pulling away.

"Father, calm down and think this through, carefully." She begun. Here, she wouldn't be making any promises, but simply making it clear that even if she wanted to, there wasn't much she could do at the moment.

"I am a suitor of the king, were I to insist on attempting to convince him of something regrading the rule of his realm, I'd risk losing the chance to convince him of anything as his queen. What good would it do for Catholicism in this kingdom for there to be one fewer catholic woman vying for King Ivan's hand?" She explained. She certainly didn't want to make any assertive pro-catholic commitments, but she was fine with letting him imagine that she might carry those out of she were queen. Truth be told, if they could provide her enough power for it to be worth it, she would stand with them. As it stood the only thing she had promised Fjolla were rewards proportional to her usefulness, on the off chance that Catholics like Oswald could be more useful, aligning with them wouldn't even count as a betrayal. That, however, was something to weigh as a queen and she needed to focus on becoming Ivan's queen in the first place.

"As for the question of factionalism, chaos and disorder, you will find, if you have not already, that though I am merciful, I have no difficulty with putting my foot down and crushing disruption." Sartana said, in reference to the assertiveness she had shown up to now, making it clear that cowardice on her part would never be a cause of disorder were she to become Queen.

She didn't actually expect to get the affirmative support of Father Oswald, more likely than not, she felt, that'd wind up going to Elenore, but even passive acceptance would be helpful.

by **The Holy Solar Empire** » Fri Feb 04, 2022 12:29 am

Eléonore Ariane de La Chapelle
Princess of the Archduchy of Châlons-en-Astra

Never before had Eleanore felt so sick, oh sure she has had fevers and numerous other such maladies, but this was a wholly unique experience; the Dukes daughter felt as if her body was subject to all sorts of disorientation, from headaches and chills, to dizziness and fatigue, the fact that she had yet to succumb to such weakness was testament to her willpower, if not her familial stubbornness. Eleanore felt the strong desire to chide herself for the decisions she made in life up to that point, "Oh sure, I just had to be different and drink tea, I couldn't drink coffee like most of my family, nooooo I had to be special and drink leaf water, well look where that decision got you Eleanore, you chose tea and now you're just about ready to keel over and squeal for the lords mercy, all because you wanted to be unique." She felt that she could have gone further, but decided against it, partially because if she was to go further she'd say some rather unladylike things, even if it was to herself, and partially because she is an innocent in all of this anyways. She wasn't the one who put a laxative into tea, nor caused this kerfuffle with the court photographer, the fault was ultimately in the hands of the mystery voice and the bumbling buffoons of a Royal Guard. "Seriously, how do you allow the drinks to be poisoned if you were not already incompetent or a malicious actor?" Perhaps she shouldn't marry the King, less her fathers side come out and instill some Imperial style punishment on the numbskulls who are behind this.

Eleanore followed Aron out of the bar and into the ballroom were everything seemed to have stayed more or less the same. A shadow of doubt had crept along the periphery of Eleanore's mind, the sight before them was fairly packed together, and the guard seemed well stocked as well. Eleanore wasn't quite sure a coup was what was exactly going on, or at least one that Aron was likely thinking about, but the concern of her retainer was more along the strange suspicions that she was not attended too sooner. However any doubt had quickly been quelled, if the Guard could get a hold of Seraria then surely they would have been able to notice that she wasn't particularly healthy. This situation was just so abnormal and she couldn't say what was going on, she could only guess that if one had access to all the information, then one could come up with all sorts of conclusions. The ones Eleanore dreaded were either a coup attempt, or a false flag, neither of which had her as a focus, but with her current condition sparked an uneasy feeling of dread.

If this was a coup then the Royal Guard surely are not alone in this, there has to be some other element at play seeking to usurp Ivan's throne, she doubted it was Ari however, the timing doesn't seem to conductive, you just don't commit to a coup when hosting an international event. That left the possibility of a false flag, which is arguably worse, given that it could cause disruption and disunity among the Kingdom, allowing a party that would benefit from such a state of affairs to benefit greatly, only problem being that she simply doesn't know the state of affairs of the Frozen Forest to know who benefits. All Eleanore knows for sure however is that her being caught up in either is not good for the Kingdom, her father is notorious for both his short fuse and his familial love, and would no doubt seek to smash a few heads if her being poisoned was a part of some ploy. Which is exactly why she is gonna make sure that if her being deathly sick gets out, she is gonna completely and utterly rewrite the story to avoid the blame being passed on the Frozen Forest. Sartana is from a desert right, maybe she was responsible after all... no, she pushed that pettiness aside, she needs to find who actually did this, not blame another pawn.

Eleanore's head momentarily followed the fleeting form of a women fleeing to the bathroom before her attention once again focused on the ball before them. The King wasn't here, it wasn't just a case of him being missing in the sea of bodies, he was truly absent form the ballroom. She began considering where he could be when Aron half whispered his own thoughts, although she quickly dismissed the idea, her sickness was of incompatibility, the King would likelier be in his lavatory than with the apothecary. No no, he couldn't have succumbed to such illness, nor could he have retired early, not with so many guest for an important event. Call her cliche, but Eleanore had guessed that if the King were anywhere than he would likely be in the gardens, it's a nice and private place with fresh air and away from the packed ballroom, perfect for taking time to compose oneself or even hold private meetings with anyone from the court to prospective suitors. It seemed Aron had reached the same conclusion when he suggested that is where they should check. It also wouldn't help to be out in a place full of greenery, hopefully that will take some of the edge off.

"I concur, it's the best chance we have to seeking his aid, it also means we will be able to present the evidence I have." She gripped her cane harder and willed in ever more strength to push her body to carry out this duty, for not just herself, or Seraria, but for this Kingdom she hopes to one day call home. As they began their march to find the King, Eleanore felt now was as time as any to ask Aron of the Kingdoms politics, mostly to affirm her thoughts from earlier, but also because it was probably wise to get a read on it sooner rather than later.

"Admiral if I may inquire, but may I presume you have an understanding of the current complexities of Forestian politics? I know you are most heavily concerned with a potential coup, and while I could not completely dismiss such a possibility, I feel that we shouldn't consider just the Guard, or even the Prince. I admit that I am rather unaware of the greater political landscape of the Frozen Forest and it's neighbors, but for all we know this could also be a foreign plot or false flag of some sort, I feel that there is plenty of broken chains in this crisis." Her speech was briefly cut off with a couple coughs. "Although I do believe that regardless of what is going on, the choice to send your men to secure Seraria is the correct choice, not only to protect her innocence but to further secure a witness against the rat. Whatever manner of plot has engulfed this kingdom, coup, false flag or whatever, I am sure there will be much discussion in the following weeks, I will pray that we find the one behind this devilry and that this will be nothing more than an incident, for the Kingdoms good health."

Ser Léopold Guillaume
Loyal Retainer of House de La Chapelle

Leopold arrived with plenty of time to spare, plenty of time to look over his gear and devices in the lead up to what would come next. His shields were nominal and even the thick walls couldn't bury a signal to the satellite the Normandie had set up. He begin to tap his foot lightly, not out of any impatience, but rather to aid in easing himself into the mood for potential conflict. He wasn't hoping for things to escalate of course, but in times like this he needed to ease his body for the worst case scenario. He wasn't exactly sure if there was a coup going on or if something else equally nefarious was afoot, but he knows that Seraria must be secured safely less whatever serpent behind this gets too close to her. He would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned, on one hand he didn't know if the sailors would easily accept that he is working with Aron, but thats why he has a connection to Eleanore and thus Aron. He was also concerned for Seraria's well being, a dungeon was no place for someone so innocent like her, he couldn't imagine how she is feeling during all of this.

Again he couldn't help but feel like there was something he could have done to prevent all of this, but then again it is rather ironic that his mission to find aid for Eleanore's cause has resulted in such a timely ally, whatever the Lord has planned he could not even begin to fathom, it was in such troubling times as now where faith was most key. Ah yes, faith was truly an important thing in a time like this, when the work of devilry has consumed this Kingdom, he knew the laxatives were for some sort of sinister plot, and Eleanore had been caught up in this evil, may God have mercy on this villain, for he cannot guarantee he nor his liege will so gracious... well he guessed that depends on how Ivan responds to the fiasco, hopefully he'll want his piece. Either way Leopold pulled out a well decorated cross, and held it close as he recited a personnel prayer only he and God may know.

It was a short time after he finished his prayer when he could hear the distinct sound of foot steps approaching, a lot of them. Before all to soon a cohort of men, Aron's sailors no doubt had arrived, and leading them was a young blond man. The young man had taken notice of the admirals absence and didn't hesitate to ask a couple of questions towards the Knight. "Well, show time I guess." he thought, as he straightened and then saluted.

"My name is Léopold Guillaume, knight and loyal retainer to Princess Eleanore who is among the suitors to King Ivan. I have been sent to represent the Admiral in his place while he escorts my lady to the King, for whatever plot has engulfed the Kingdom has swept her in as well, suffice it to say a series of events have transpired that have given the Admiral enough reason to suspect the Guard may be attempting a coup, our goal is to secure the court photographer who has been arrested by the Guard, there is a critical dissonance between the charges and reality of the situation, so we fear that her life may be in peril. This is your country and your operation, I am only here as aid and to help ensure no one gets hurt. If you need any more info on whats exactly going on, then I'll be more than willing to elaborate."

by **The Saucer Pilots** » Sat Feb 05, 2022 12:36 am

The Frozen Forest wrote:
(Image)

Ymir stepped aside as a small dark haired alien appeared onto the balcony, swiftly stealing away Grimes for a private conversation. It wasn't hard to guess who this was: Nova of Air Fleet. A steady breeze passed over them and Ymir leaned against the railing as Grimes and Nova whispered away. Ymir looked out over the forest below, watching the pines shutter and shake without a care in the world. What cares did a tree have, Ymir wondered. I want water. I want sunlight. A tree didn't need to watch out for rivals from above and below. A tree wouldn't know of the horrid fates that befell the losers in the great game of politics and business. They swayed and swooned while he grappled with the reality that his father could die at any minute.

Distantly Ymir heard a quiet too-too-too from the direction of the Royal Gardens. "Hiiii" a soft voice called out to him and Ymir craned his neck to see Nova smiling coyly at him, her body cocked forwards to suggest a kittenish disposition. Ymir might have thought she was parodying the other ballroom ladies and yet her smile seemed earnest. It was a confusing sight and the change in Nova's demeanor was profoundly different from when she had initially appeared.

Ymir stepped forwards and bent down onto one knee. Confused as he might have been he was still a nobleman and it would have been inappropriate to spurn Nova's attempt at being friendly. Following standard etiquette Ymir reached forwards and gently took Nova's outstretched hand. It was a remarkably small hand, almost like that of a child's. Gentler still Ymir leaned down and pressed his lips to Nova's bare skin briefly, ever briefly. Meeting Nova's eyes, Ymir couldn't help but observe that they vaguely remind him of a predatory animal on the hunt. "Miss Nova, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Ymir Viggo Aynard Syrén." A polite introduction followed by a practiced nobleman's smile, appropriately charming for an introduction.

~~~

*hic* "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know...I don't know what to do..." tears rolled down the young girls face accompanied by running mascara and blush. Kornelia rubbed her eyes to clear away the tears but they kept coming. Not now, not father! Kornelia's heart hammered away in her chest, she couldn't think past it's rhythmic, frantic beating. Kornelia couldn't breath, the stale crowded air of the ballroom burned her mouth and throat. She could smell chlorine and rubber and she could feel the sensation of a needle passing through her skin. The nurses were talking to each other. They whispered and Kornelia heard snatches of their conversation "fatal, no treatment, incurable" they looked at her with pity and she wanted to scream at them.

Kornelia was alone on the street. Ymir was there too, only a few feet away. Kornelia looked up into the sky, there was thunder. The rain began life as a sprinkle. Kornelia could feel the misty dew touching her face and hands, it was a pleasant spring shower. BOOM! CRACK! thunder struck down and rain poured from the heavens. It was dark and the sky was filled with the howling of the wind and the screaming of Valkyries. "dauði! dauði! dauði!" The Valkyries floated down from the heavens, chanting their violent prophesy. "Kornelia, I'm so hungry..." Kornelia looked to her brother. Ymir was faced down on the street wearing nothing but rags. His body was gaunt like a skeleton and his hair was gone. Kornelia looked down to see that she was in a similar state herself. "dauði! dauði! dauði!" The Valkyries called out as their voices grew louder, closer.

"No! I don't want to die!" Kornelia rocketed upwards in bed, her body covered in sweat and her heart still racing. Duchess Isabella sat in a wooden chair and was looking at her concerned. "My, my...How unusual." Kornelia turned to the sound of the voice to see a man dressed in a red and black plaid pajamas and bearing a stethoscope. "How are you feeling dear girl?" Kornelia watched the man's thick mustache wobble as he spoke. "I'm alright. Where am I?"

"Why dear girl, you're in one of the palace bedrooms. You collapsed, don't you remember?" Kornelia shook her head firmly. "Well you appear to be in order now, I'll take my leave." The doctor stood with a loud creak and exited the room, leaving Kornelia alone with Duchess Isabella. There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so before Kornelia finally spoke up. "How long was I...Indisposed?" It must have been hours, had her brother not stayed to check up on her? Where was he? "You've been out for about fifteen minutes, give or take. The doctor said that you experienced an extreme form of a panic attack.

"Oh..."

"Don't worry, I don't think anyone saw what happened. We were pretty close to the edge of the ballroom so it was easy to get you out unseen with the help of the guards. It goes without saying that you aren't to mention what just happened to anyone, not even your brother. You're a member of the nobility afterall and we don't do what you just did. Let's just say that the heat of the ballroom got to you and leave it at that."

"Thank you for your help Duchess, but why did you help me?" Isabella snorted reflexively "What was I supposed to do, leave you laying on the ground? You didn't give me much of a choice did you? Besides your family is powerful, no? I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me." Isabella signed and set down a small booklet she'd been holding. "I'm not your governess dear, I've got a ball to attend to. Now the doctor stationed a guard outside your room and he'll stay there until you're ready to leave. I highly suggest you take some time to get your affairs in order before you return to the ball." Isabella rose from her seat and exited the room. Kornelia's thoughts turned to her vision of Valkyries and death. Somehow it seemed more real than a panic attack.

Nova watched the young nobleman incline himself and felt his hand over before the kiss occurred. It was the first kiss, of sorts, that Nova had received from a baseline-human. The new experience was slightly electrifying on a physical level, but it was also one to which the pilot was emotionally detached to even as they looked up at Ymir. His words were on her mind; "Miss Nova", those words reflected on her for a lingering moment, language was gendered back on Earth and designated roles were always more marked. Showing courtesy to the so-called fairer sex was always a quaint little tradition, and Nova sometimes felt some sense of novel entertainment when such niceties were directed at her, as the scene before her was reminiscent of the wedding proposals of saccharine films. However, for the marooned inter-dimensional human, there were more far pressing matters to think about.

She was pondering how to approach Ymir, or better said, the access he could give to valuable metals and diamonds needed to repair the ship's electronic components. Indirectness had the virtue of not coming out as too strong as it would avoid being perceived as shameless or selfish, however, every minute she spent away from her Earth was a minute closer to concern from her superiors; and Nova wasn't willing to risk their career for what others thought of her, so the little traveler cut straight to the point. Thus, she acted:

"The pleasure is all mine, Yamir Bigo Ayanard Sirén, I'd wish we had met under better and more planned circumstances." She bowed by tilting her head down slightly, it was intended to be understood as a gesture of polite reverence. Then she raised her head again

"From what my...eh, friend, Mr. Grimes...tells me, I believe that we can both scratch each-other's backs...ehhhehehe...figuratively, I mean." Calling Grimes a friend was a lie, and one that she reviled, but it sounded nicer on the ears. Trying to be as brief as possible, she continued, "For a small amount of gold, I can offer you a fair chance of paying it off and earning a lot more. I offer technology that you and your family can patent." Thinking on her toes, Nova began to list minor things she could think of: "the groundwork for next-generation instant meals, laser drills maybe, or memory foam for pillows, huh. Who doesn't like a good rest?" Thinking a bit more desperately, and not wanting to sound like a frustrated salesman as she looked at a still Ymir that she feared irritating, Nova finally mentioned something else with a full grin on their face, "or you want a medical kit? The stuff in it will sell for billions, a lot better than the medical care here for sure. I know your family isn't in Pig Pharma buuuut— " With that last phrase she stopped blathering, noticing that the nobleman had become more attentive.

by **Kyrenaia** » Sat Feb 05, 2022 5:15 am

The Frozen Forest wrote:
(Image)

A steady breeze flowed through the trees and flowers of the Royal Garden followed by a steady whirring as the branches and petals rose and fell. Distantly one of the local saw-whet owls cawed a somber too-too-too to be answered by a firmer hoo-hoo-h-h-hoo of a tawny owl. Despite the vocalized danger one particularly heavy mouse slipped out of his burrow and skittered across the ground. Skitter skitter pitter patter the mouse jumped over the leaf. A pair of nocturnal eyes twisted like spotlights but the mouse pitter pattered on. The mouse's pace quickened and it jumped from one low hanging tree root to another. It had made this journey before in it's youth and it knew the way better than any other mouse in the garden.

The mouse jumped off the tree root and narrowly avoided the soft crunch of a underfoot leaf. It was almost to his destination. Was that a tasty berry bush up ahead? The mouse could smell the soft plum berry juice as it picked up it's pace for a second time, haphazardly racing across the open ground towards the ever encroaching berry bush. SLAM! a weight hit the mouse from the side, causing it to tumble. The mouse rolled and tried to regain it's footing but it was no use. The mouse smacked into a particularly crunchy leaf and it's fate was sealed. From above a terror swept down and the mouse began to run back towards it's nest, but it was no use! With a horrifying scream the mouse was swept up by the claws of a night raptor.

Near the berry bush there sat another mouse, smaller this time. As it watched it's larger competitor be carried away into the night it almost seemed to snicker, a faint grin spreading across it's rodentine lips. The smaller mouse crept towards the berry bush, to a feast that would go unshared.

__

Sir Leon Mayr dashed along through the garden over a thin dirt path. Even without his ceremonial armor his footfalls were particularly heavy and Leon wondered if it wouldn't be more prudent to discard his gambeson as well. How much further until he'd find solid stone ground and properly maintained rows of flowers and exotic plants? Leon couldn't remember that gardens being this large, which probably meant he'd entered them at one of the deepest ends. Thankfully guard patrols even this far in weren't going to be common, at least Leon doubted that they would be. With that in mind he allowed himself some measure of carelessness as he traipsed closer to the center of the garden.

"...Yeah well I heard that The National Polar Party is plannin' some kind of rally in front of the palace tomorrow. I guess they're upset about having so many foreigners here to court His Majesty. Once we're off shift I'll have to call Egrid and tell her to forget about bringing me lunch in the morning. I wouldn't want her to get caught up in all that."

Leon peered through the underbrush. No less than a stones throw away from him stood two royal guardsmen in their full ceremonial armor. If they hadn't been talking so loudly Leon would have no doubt ran right into them. For the moment at least, he was off the path and out of view. What were they talking about, The National Polar Party? As far as Leon knew those were just fringe lunatics who liked to scream about blood purity and the "Polar Race." Were they really planning a rally the next day, and if so why wasn't the guard erecting barricades and defenses around the outer perimeter of the palace. Surely this was a threat to the King and to the suitors present, and Leon doubted Ivan would just sit idly by.

I've got another job to handle right now. I'll just have to remember to bring it up to His Majesty once I've met up with him. Still, how am I going to get past these guards?" Leon couldn't see a way to get past the bushes and trees without attracting noise, save for removing his prized gambeson. It was a fine piece, imported from the colonies and prohibitively expensive. Leon slipped it off his body and set it against a tree, making a mental note of where he thought he was so that he could come back and retrieve it later.

Leon crawled along the ground, past bushes and through thin gaps in the trees until he successfully slipped past the guards. That was easy enough. Leon got to his knees and stepped forwards, tripping over a thick root. The ground raced towards him and Leon braced. Crunch! The wind was knocked out of him and the shattered components of a glass garden light pricked at his torso. Leon hauled himself to his feet and looked down at the mess he'd made. His shirt was torn where he'd caught himself on the broken glass. Leon might have cursed but he was more upset that he'd ruined a perfectly good shirt. As it turned out he wasn't so sure footed among brambles and roots as he was on the marble palace dance floor.

__

Leon walked along stone tiles towards the center of the garden. The middle rim still had it's overgrown, unmaintained patches of plants but at least had some basic modicum of decency in regards to it's layout. Wooden signs stood out from the dirt to direct visitors towards varying destinations and one such post clearly directed Leon towards the center of the garden, where he was sure to find the King. These were paths that he knew and had traversed before so he wasn't so worried about the guards despite their more frequent patrols. Whenever the king's men would pass by he would duck out of sight on either side of the path and wait for them to pass before going on his way.

Garden Center the sign pointed confidently towards the right path. Leon swore he could almost hear the sounds of voices close by, though they sounded tense. Leon hadn't considered why His Majesty had come to the garden at such an important time as the ball, but now he began to wonder if it had something to do with this National Polar Party rally that the guards had been talking about. If that were the case though, why did Leon hear the sound of a women's voice as well as his King's?

"...Maybe we should head back inside the Palace?" Leon heard a snippet of the conversation clearly, followed by the sound of metal boots coming down his stone path. As he had before Leon slipped off the path and watched as the guardsmen came into view. On the gardens outer rim there were almost no garden lights so Leon had been made to count on sound to avoid the guard but here in the center of the garden it was well lit and the guardsmen shone brilliantly in their expensive, ornate armor. It would be hard to not see them coming.

Leon leaned close to the tree and held his breath As the guards came fully into view. Thump, thump, thump. Leon stayed absolutely still, a bead of sweat rolling down his head. Your Majesty, I humbly apologize for interrupting your present conversation. It is unbefitting for someone of my station to bother you while you're indisposed and I surely expect you to punish me for such a transgression. As your loyal Knight I resign myself to whatever judgement you pass on me, but I implore you to hear me now, sire... Leon plotted what he was going to say in his head as the guards closed in.

Hands took hold of Leon's shoulders and a heavy weight through him onto the path of the guardsmen. Leon couldn't react, merely hitting the stone with a thump. ohh Leon looked up from the ground to see the two guardsmen looking down on him in shock. What the... Leon peered towards where he'd just been standing to see nothing but empty space.

"You there! What are you doing? This part of the gardens is off limits, you shouldn't be here! On you're feet!" The guards rushed Leon, who tried to rise and escape only to be caught and have his arm twisted behind his back. Leon stifled a grimace, he was a Knight after all and couldn't show weakness to men like these. "What are you, a Kuronamian assassin?! Speak damn you!" One of the guards drove his fist into Leon's stomach. "Or maybe you're a Mervayan. Huh? I bet Queen Callista is paying you handsomely to sneak in here and stab our King in the back. Scum like you deserve nothing less than a swift hanging. Oh you can bet that they'll have a fun time with you in the dungeon Mervayan." Leon felt something hit his jaw, sending shockwaves through his body.

"Enough of that, what is wrong with you two?" A new voice reached Leon's ears and he looked ahead to see a handsome young man walking up to them. Leon recognized him immediately.

Sir Harold Wulf

"Unhand Sir Mayr at once or I'll have your heads by noon tomorrow." The threat hung in the air and Leon could sense the guards hesitation. They released him and stood off to the sides of the path as Sir Wulf approached. "Sir, we thought he was a Mervayan spy. We didn't recognize Sir...Mayr...without his armor." The guards tried to reason with Sir Wulf, who ignored them and came close to Leon. "I apologize for that Sir Mayr. I take it you're here to speak to the King? Well you can't be seen by His Majesty wearing that tattered mess. Pip! Help me with my armor."

A tall and lanky squire appeared whom Leon recognized as Jormund Piper or "Pip" as Sir Wulf called him. The fellow set to work on his masters ceremonial garb. "That's not necessary Sir Wulf." Leon protested, but Sir Wulf would have none of it and waved him off. "I'd be remiss if I let His Majesty see you in your current state and in any case..." Sir Wulf's armor came loose and Wulf pressed the thick chest plate towards Leon. "...I wasn't asking."

__

Leon stood awkwardly before the section of road which led to His Majesty. Sir Wulf's armor wasn't a good fit for him but Leon still couldn't help but feel immense gratitude for the young Knight. Sir Wulf was his junior, in fact Sir Wulf was one of the newest Knights to have entered His Majesty's service and yet despite that it had been Sir Wulf to have appeared and rescued Leon from what could have been an rough couple of nights in the dungeons.

Leon composed himself and strode forwards into view. This was a secluded spot, not quite the center of the garden but a bit out of the way. If Leon had followed the signs he might have actually missed His Majesty entirely and have gotten lost. Providence it would seem was with him and the Khana.

My Thoughts

His Majesty never ceases to surprise me. When my father first brought me to court I'd stood among the other boys. I was neither the strongest nor the most intelligent. I'd neglected my studies, broken every rule I'd ever known and had gotten carried away with plenty of pretty young girls. I was a troubled youth to say the least and if It weren't for my father I'd have likely ended up a drunken scoundrel drifting from town to town bedding women and swindling better men than I. My father believed in me though and used his connections to secure me a spot with other prospective candidates. The Order of Amber Sun. Dressed from head to tow in fine aristocratic clothing we'd waited patiently for the King to arrive. We were disappointed when news came that the King was indisposed and would not be able to attend, but that his eldest son would arrive in his stead.

His Majesty was the picture of royal pride at that time. He must have been twenty at the time, I myself was just ten. His Majesty had walked up and down the line of boys, most of which regarded him with a respectful bow and greeting. I hated etiquette. I hated how the other boys flattered this pompous silver spooned snob. When His Majesty passed me I scowled and met his eyes. In hindsight I could have been punished severely for such an act of defiance, but this was also at a time when The Royal Family were struggling for influence against the then socialist government. For whatever reason His Majesty continued on down the line and later that day I learned that I was the only one of the boys that would be allowed to join the order. A week later I was in a carriage on my way back to the capital to be squired to Sir Tyr and then later, His Majesty himself.

So much has happened since then. The order broke my defiant attitude quickly, and I spent my days hunched over books and swinging a sword. I didn't understand at the time why we weren't allowed to practice with guns, after all how could we protect the King without knowing how to shoot properly? We weren't guardsmen though, and our jobs while similar were not the same. I begrudgingly learned how to speak Kyrenaian, Selkie and a handful of other languages to varying degrees of fluency.

Then His Majesty, King Alvor died and then Crown Prince Ivan ascended to the throne. Since then things progressed rapidly. The socialists were overthrown and the monarchy's power was fully restored. Ivan reorganized the court (though frankly I'd never seen the court is so much turmoil and paranoia as it was now) and reasserted Frozen Forestrian military presence across the colonies. Then came the rumors of Crown Prince Ari and his attempts to win supporters for a bid to take the crown. The practical approach for His Majesty would have been to exile Ari and his supporters, but His Majesty lacked a wife, sons and daughters of his own. To exile the Crown Prince would be to invite the Valgardian Movement to try and seize power.

And so His Majesty finally agreed to throw a ball in which suitors from across the world would be invited. Here I am now, having promised my support to Khana Amina and her young daughter Marla. Afterall she seemed earnest in her affections for the King which was surely more honest than the motivations of the other suitors. I'm not sure when I turned into such a romantic, but I couldn't help myself-I had to help the Khana. I snuck into the gardens, abandoning my precious armor and even my ornate gambeson to reach this point. I was pushed by something or someone, the guards had caught me and Sir Wulf had come to my rescue. This night has been full of surprises, but I have to admit nothing was quite as surprising as what I saw before me now.

His Majesty stood rigidly apart from a brown haired beauty, Princess Asha Lisanne Cärrino of Brettenwald. I'd seen her face before in pictures and I'd heard the gossip that had spread through the palace when her invitation was sent out. Evidently she was one of the favorites by the court for a number of reasons, but I could see that apart from her family name and country of origin that she was a character all on her own. For one thing she was taller than I'd imagined she'd be.

They stood apart from one another and an uneasy tension filled the air. Why was His Majesty alone here with her? Had I interrupted some sort of love confession? That was my first thought, and my initial instinct was to retreat before His Majesty and his guest saw me. I couldn't bring myself to move my feet, I'd come so far into the gardens and Sir Wulf had even stuck his neck out for me. I couldn't turn back now. Besides Khana Amina and Princess Marla were counting on me!

Leon cleared his throat loudly and marched forwards towards the King with all the dignity he could muster. Once he was a few paces away he dropped onto his knee and bowed reverently. "Your Majesty. I apologize for interrupting you at this time while you are indisposed with one of your guests. I approach you now on behalf of Khana Amina of Sheliak. She has asked me to seek you out and arrange a time for you two to speak with one another." Leon abandoned his prior speech in favor of a direct approach, all the while averting his gaze from Princess Asha. So far as he should be concerned she was not there, she did not exist.

(Image)

Sigrid nibbled at the corner of her cat cupcake, biting off one of the felines vanilla flavored ear tips. Sweet! The wonderful taste of sugary vanilla sprang sparks across the girls tongue. "Eeee!" Sigrid screwed her face up and let out a tiny satisfied squeal, her expression giving way to a look of ecstasy. Why did food have to taste so good anyways? The girl standing apart from Sigrid, Princess Marla bint-Amina had accepted her cupcake and Sigrid's proposal of friendship, but saying you're friends was one thing. What really mattered was what Marla did in the next couple seconds. Sigrid leaned forwards, staring like a hawk as Marla brought her cupcake to her lips and snatched a absentminded bite.

"That's good." Sigrid gave a little bounce and threw her arms around Marla, an excited giggling filling the air around them. Whatever reservations Sigrid had regarding Marla seemed to evaporate with the girls agreement on the delectability of their cute little pastries. Like an alcoholic who just found a new drinking buddy, Sigrid began to chatter unintelligibly to Marla, the topic turning to the sweets at the buffet table. "...Lemon tarts, custard tarts, canelé, cupcakes, vatrushka, anpan, kringle, pain aux raisins, cinnamon rolls, lokma, danishes, empanadas, strudel, profiterole, brioche, éclair, mooncakes...Ooh!! I bet you've never had frosted maize, have you?" Sigrid let a beat pass and opened her mouth to speak again...

"You're Princess Marla bin-Amina aren't you? You're a Selkie Princess."

The source of the voice was a girl roughly the same age as Sigrid. She wore a green plaid dress of sorts and her hair was messy but messy in a way that seemed to suggest a wild fierceness and stubborn determination. The girl curtsied awkwardly and met Sigrid's eyes. The girl crossed her arms and regarded the blonde haired sweet-lover. "You must be Sigrid then. You've got cream on your cheek." The girl did a rubbing motion on her own cheek and Sigrid flushed, quickly wiping away the cream fluff.

There was a clattering of heels and two more girls came into sight. Just as the first girl had done, these two newcomers curtsied to Marla and Sigrid. The first of the girls spoke up "My name is Lynn Maddock, this-" Lynn gestured to the younger girl of the trio "-is my sister Meggan and she-" Lynn gestured to the girl wearing the multi-colored dressed "-is my cousin Mona."

"So is it true that you're a Princess, and you're selkie??" Mona Maddock posed the question and her cousins went silent, evidently curious. All three girls gazed down at Marla and Sigrid quickly stepped forwards, waving her hands dismissingly "so what if she is, and anyways we were just about to go get some more snacks..." Sigrid looked towards Marla, her expression displaying her mixed thoughts plainly. If she doesn't want to answer your question, she doesn't have to.

[...]

King Ivan glanced away from Sir Leon and towards Asha. Ivan wasn't sure how to respond to such an inappropriate request or the audacity of Leon to make it. Even more unusual and audacious as the request was coming from one of his sworn knights and one of his own wards. Ivan had known Leon for some time and had never known him to be prone to flights of fancy of this caliber. If nothing else it demonstrated that Leon felt too comfortable with him and would need to be set back into his place.

Then again it wasn't as though Ivan could deny the request altogether without it being seen as an insult to the Khana, which left him in a tricky spot on whether to discipline Leon then and there or respond promptly and dismiss him. Ivan cursed under his breath and reached into his cloak to pull out a small golden stopwatch. It was about 10:30 PM. He still planned on meeting with Sartana, but after that he could definitely meet with the Khana.

The ball was still ongoing even after eight hours of nonstop drinking, dancing and mingling and would continue until the palace ran out of food or drinks (an unlikely prospect, but possible), all the guests had retired to their homes and quarters (equally unlikely given that guests would still be arriving from around the country) or it fizzled out on it's own sometime in the early morning the next day (the most likely result). While the ball wouldn't be ending anytime soon, his suitors and himself would no doubt have to disappear themselves in order to get rest for the next days festivities.

"Sir Leon I'm sure you're aware that slipping past my guards and approaching me at this hour for anything short of an emergency is a both extremely rude and a punishable offense. You and I will have a conversation regarding this, but for now...." Ivan looked down at his stopwatch for a second time, measuring time in his head. "If the Khana hasn't retired to her quarters by then, relay to her that we can speak in the west wing library, my personal library, at 11:15. In the meantime the Khana has a young girl by the name of Marla, you will inquire with the Khana regarding Marla's bedtime and if necessary you will lead the Khana's daughter to her guest quarters. The Khana, her daughter and the other suitors are all staying in the royal guestrooms. You will then accompany the Khana to the library at the appointed time, then you will wait outside until we are done talking, where you will then show the Khana to her quarters. Is that all understood Sir Leon? You are dismissed. Leave out of the front entrance this time."

"Yes my liege, your word is my command" Leon rose to his feet, bowed politely and stepped backwards several paces so that he was consistently facing towards the King and Asha, before spinning on his heel and continuing on his way out of the gardens.

(Image)

Sir Leon Mayr felt all of the blood leave his face as the King repremanded him. A king's justice was always particularly harsh, it was a characteristic of the Bjork rulership and had been since they united the nation over a thousand years prior. Even if he and His Majesty were relatively close, Leon would face the whip at the very minimum. Was it worth it though, to have delivered such a message for a near-midnight rendezvous? Absolutely. Leon felt no regret as has passed through the doors which led from the ballroom to the gardens and vice versa. On the other end he ran into a surprised looking Lucy Farehollow, a personal servant of His Majesties and someone who Leon had difficulties with.

"How did you get into the gardens?"

"I'm friends with the one eyed ogre who watches the back gate."
Great now she's sneering at me like I'm the problem here.

Leon shook his head and proceeded on his way to the balcony, just in time to see the a man approach the Khana. Leon knew this man well, Ruby Magnasson was well known for his kennings and poetry, and he was a personal friend of His Majesty. He enjoyed the King's protection in a way most people would envy, but he didn't let it go to his head. Leon started towards the Khana and wondered what it was they were talking about.

Princess Marla bint-Amina.
Balcony.
I was a bit surprised by the hug, but Sigrid seemed to be the exuberant type - after all that stuffy ballroom moving, it was a nice refresher. I briefly wondered, if this was what Fürst Alrich of Teressien liked about Enya Findehoof, his girlfriend.
And let me shoot down any shipping right now: I'm straight.
Still, Sigrid seemed like a nice lass.
Exuberant with seemingly little care for personal space, but a nice lass nonetheless.
"Ooh!! I bet you've never had frosted maize, have you?", she asked.
I wanted to answer truthfully that no, I hadn't ever had frosted maize and wondered if it tasted like frosted strawberries, when...
"You're Princess Marla bin-Amina aren't you? You're a Selkie Princess."
The girl, who had asked that seemed to be the stubborn wild sort, maybe even a bit of a tomboy, followed by two others. They curtsied, a gesture I returned in kind. Lynn Maddock, with her sister Meggan and her cousin Mona.
Interesting.
Mona repeated the question, quite curious, but also... I felt as if they were looking down upon me and Sigrid, maybe even particularly down on her, who she stepped forwards and tried to deflect their inquiries.
I smiled, nodded, almost serenely.
"Yep, I was born a Selkie, to the Tribe of Cork to be precise.", I said with some pride. I might now be a Kyrenaian Princess, but I was a Selkie, too. "Sigrid's right, though, we were about to get some more snacks. Want to come along?"

Khana Amina bint-Karim.
Somewhere else on the balcony.
Leaving Marla and her friend to their own devices and unaware of what Leon was up to, I looked at the dark gardens and the view beyond. I looked, but I did not see.
I had sent Leon out to a mission to get me a few minutes with the King, to do something, that might be cruel, but also something, that was necessary. I was a Kyrenaian Khana and a realist and no matter how tonight ended, I would not depend on the result.
Maybe I would also become Queen of the Frozen Forest, but I would remain a Kyrenaian Khana in any case. That was, what differentiated me from others here tonight: Everything hinged on this night to some, it seemed to me.
With this, however, came certain liberties, which I had, but Sartana didn't (and vice versa, for that matter). The thing was, I had an heir, I was the Khana and I would like to think, that I was a good one. And I was older, more mature... whispers behind my back about me maybe being infertile were unwarranted, but with my age and my station, I had the liberty to demand something very crucial.
Love.
I did not want to marry for politics, not for a new shiny hat... Ivan was a nice guy, who I could imagine loving - but aside from the sæta-thing, I had no indication of him being even remotely interested in me... or of me actually loving him.
I needed time. Time to get to know him, his family and vice versa. I needed to know, if he would accept Marla. I needed to know... if we even had the time.
That was, what I wanted to make clear to him.
I did not notice Ruby Magnasson.

Marihime Ingansu.
By the buffet.
After looking through Hisa's eyes so much, allow me to take over.
I was enjoying a drink, nothing too alcoholic, mostly floating around the ballroom with Hisa as my only companion. Nova reappeared again, at least I saw her from the corner of my eye as she darted towards the balconies.
The music was nice.
I wondered how the people here would react if I were to take my loyal retainer out for a spin. She would most likely be red as a strawberry and try her best to keep up. She had never been one for foreign dances, the traditional temple dances being more up her alley.
Speaking of which... I needed to get a priest or priestess for the little temple in my gardens in Aijinoseki.
I wondered, where the King was and how his quest was proceeding, but I also wondered, if any of the local men would find the courage to ask me for a trip to the dancefloor.
Hisa would not make them into fine filets.
At least not until they stepped onto my feet, that is.
I smiled into my glass as I took another sip.

Red String of Fate (IC) (OPEN) (Courting)

The Poisoned

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