Murdered Princess: Closing Feast

Closing Feast
Summary: The closing feast of the tourney brings about more than good wishes as a murder is revealed and the Rhaedan's are detained. Hey! It's for their own good!
Date: 05/May/2013
Related: All tourney logs and any relating the disappearance of the missing Taniford Heir
Aethel Amira Aylanora Carisse Eldrick Elenore Fayre Lyam Moirae Pawel Prada Roltoff Samwell Stefan Tyler 

Lord's Hall
With its high, arched ceiling and flying buttresses, the Lord's Hall is one of the loftiest rooms in the keep. Grand, stone fireplaces occupy opposing walls as the heat from both is required to warm the entire room. On the walls in between, extraordinary tapestries intricately woven and colorful in features outline the history of the Taniford kingdom beginning with Taniford Eikos and ending with a decadent depiction of a battle with Corsairs. The final touch is a scenic depiction of current day Wolveshire and surrounding lands. A dais dominates the area of the room opposite the entrance, and the high table upon it is surrounded by a series of chairs for the Duke and his guests. Near the dais, a small door leads back into the kitchens. The main entrance is marked by a pair of heavy, wooden double doors leading into the entrance hall.
Monday, May 06, 1329

It's the closing feast for the tourney, and the Lord's Hall is looking much like it did at the opening feast. There's the tables, and the food is placed out. And so people eat, drink and is merry for now. It takes a while longer, as Pawel studies the room, waiting for the moment when most of the guests have finished their meals. When that moment comes, he stands up, to make sure people knows he's about to speak.

Dressed in fine silk red and gold attire, Amira is already seated and has been for the bulk of the feast. At the moment, she is seated beside her brother and the two have been talking quietly together for a good bit of the meal. The female of the siblings is sipping her wine, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she glances around to see the others gathered. When she notices Pawel standing, she ceases her talking and gives him her entire attention.

Lyam has been a ball of nervous energy for most of the feast. Though he seems calm and composed, he's carried on light conversation, picking up on commentary about the food and drink. The young man spent most of the day at work and now he's watching the pay off, and it just causes him to smile as he draws in a breath and lets it out slow, a glance over to his date for the evening, the lovely young Lady Taniford. He watches the staff at work at times, making sure the changing of courses goes without a hitch and now that the Duke is about to speak, he sets aside his utensils to fold his hands into his lap to listen to his brother speak.

Roltoff is dressed as he always is, freshly cleaned armor abit minus his weapons as he slides back his plate of food, and giving off a well satisfied belch. He grabs the tankard of mead and takes a good sized swollow of it before he looks around at the rest in attendance.. Waiting to see what comes next.

It had been with the youngest Varghem that the young Lady Taniford and come to share the meal along side. Seeking to match to her escort for the evening, evening in wearing her House colors. The fine gown worn is mostly of silver, with blue accents. Elenore's long hair so oftne let free has for once been pulled up styled for the fine feast. Seeming able to have kept up conversation well enough throuhg the meal, least better at that then recalling to actually eat the meal itself. But when Pawel stand, Elenore gives a light motion of her hand to draw Lyam's attention, murmuring,"He seems like he will be addressing all soon." Offering a oft smile to Lyam as he seems to have taken notice as well.

Stefan is following his sister's way of acting. Paying some respect by being neatly dressed and not having his hood or scarf on, for once. Talking with his sister and drinking a bit along with eating. Falling silent as his sister does. Taking a moment to look around the area as well. Studying the people present with a smile on his lips. Cleanly shaved and with short blonde hair nicely made for the feast.

"Lords and Ladies, Masters and Mistresses, may I have your attention, please." The words come rather clear and loud from the Duke, who seems to have at least recovered somewhat after yesterday's event. "We are gathered here to mark the end of the Tourney we have held here in Wolveshire, and on behalf of House Varghem, I would like to thank all of you for having visited our fair town and attended the events. I also want to congratulate each of the winners and also the rest of the participants, for a job well done." Another brief pause, before he adds, "Aside from the events themselves, one of the main reasons for something like this would be to make friends, across the borders of Kingdoms and various Houses and any such divider. And I hope people have managed that, so we can keep our entire lands from being engulfed in the same kind of warfare as we've seen for so many years."

Eldrick has been seated with his sisters that had joined him for the tourney at Wolveshire, sharing quiet words and funny comments with his siblings while enjoying the food and drink. The latter definitely enjoyed more than the former. When the Duke calls for attention though, the Lohstrens grow quiet and their gaze shifts to the host. As Pawel begins to speak, Eldrick listens quietly, applauding at the appropriate time with the others.

When Duke Pawel relays the events of the week, Amira smiles as she looks at her brother. They had indeed made many new friends she had never known until now. Allowing her gaze to drift over the room and settle briefly on each of her new found friends. Holding her goblet in her hand, she awaits what is surely leading to a toast.

A silver armor shines as a mirror for every candle in his table. The flames dance around a Taniford sigil, proudly shown in his chest, in dire contrast to the dark and deep gaze that inspects the hall. A little, delicate smile is there at all times, challenging the wine of a filled cup, only touched by the finger that have it suspended in the air. Over it, Samwell Taniford, Prince and Knight of the Citadel, is just a curious spectator, seemingly entertained and quiet for a while.

Exchanging glances with Elenore, Lyam offers a fond smile before he listens to his brother. Approving of the speech thus far, the young man gives a nod and a grin towards his older brother before he reaches for his goblet as well, looking around for those that the young Lord has met since he has been allowed to see the world as it is. And loving every moment of it.

Roltoff listens to the speak of the Duke and grins a bit as he takes in anothr swollow of Mead and as his eyes dance across the room he comes across the princess and her rised cup, and in joining her he lifts his Tankard of mead up, along with a smile.

The fond smile is return to Lyam from Elenore, along with those glances. Though there is the random glance sent along to her most adored cousin. A few nods occur from her as well at points made in the speech, she has certianly made some unexpected connections during the week. A hand finding her goblet of wine as so many others do.

One whom finds this scene as it begins in earnest is Lady of Varghem, her footsteps silent as she meanders seemingly lost in thought, or so it would seem, pausing here and there to listen a moment. Elegent grace sweeps each step, a smile at times of words heard, a smirk for others, and she carries on her way toward her cousin. A gentle whisper and flitter of rippled silks follows her motion, emerald irises absorbing those present, before any recognition of those also finding such respose is noted.

A simple smile adorns her fair mien, a wordless greeting as she pauses for a moment to slip a message hastly written to her cousin Samwell, and slight whisper, "That should answer the question." Thus, does her melodic timbre drift forth on the coy air, a deep breath forsaking full lips in speech, as Prada takes a seat at the same table.

"So, I would like for everyone to enjoy the rest of the evening. If you need more food and drink, let one of the servants know. And there will be music, and a chance for dancing." Pawel reaches for his goblet now, before he adds, "But before that, I would like to make a toast, to Sir Eldrick Lohstren, Lord Paidrig Riedel, Lady Carisse Varghem, and Sir Nydan Krakensteel, our champions of the events." A brief pause, before he raises his voice further. "To the Champions!"

As the speech concludes into a toast to salute the champions, Eldrick raises his newly refilled goblet of wine, a proud grin adorned on his face as he looks on to the others that have gathered tonight. The Lohstrens did well this week, showing all present that their House is still a strong House, being able to compete with the best when the time came. "To the Champions!" The three words echo'd by the Lohstren Heir, saluting the others who have won, especially Lady Carisse who had edged him out from stealing a third victory.

Raising her goblet in the air, Amira repeats the toast. "To the Champions!" Only after agreeing does she allow herself to once more seek out those who had one, then on the Lohstren Lord who had won on more than one occasion. Tilting her goblet marginally in his direction, she gives him a little bit of an extra toast in there before taking a sip from the goblet.

"Hear hear! To the Champions!" Lyam is exceptionally proud of his older sister's victory, and the young man just seems to be generally cheered by how it all went off, as he lifts his goblet to take a drink. As his blue eyes catch sight of his elder sister, Lyam tilts the goblet towards Prada, the slight young man enjoying his evening immensely.

As the speech ends with the expected toast, Elenore rises her goblet as well as her voice to those that give the words echo through the hall,"To the Champions!" Drawing the goblet back after to draw a drink from it It had been exciting times, and she had enven participated in her first event, even if reaching the finish line had been her only acomplishment.

"Krakensteel was the best, cousin Prada." is said in a gentle and joyful voice, as the Varghem lady gets near to the Prince. "And yes, this is most interesting." the dark eyes stop lengthily in a careful examination of the little paper, drowned in full concentration. "The best, don't you think?" is whispered, just as a preface for a playful and somehow mischievous grin. "To the champions!"

Finally the cup embraces the challenge, touching his lips and letting the scarlet liquid to fade out, disappearing forever, flashing in his eyes until a blink stops the moment and Samwell turns back to the lady wolf by his side. "Do you think two of them are possible?" a finger subtly touches the paper. "Or would it be too much?"

"Speaking of.." Lyam says, overhearing something that Samwell says. "I was able to capture the Krakensteel to paper, along with his companion.. I was wondering if you might wish to paint it for me, Lady Elenore, so that I can start to prepare the display for those that can visit that were unable to attend to be able to relive the events through our mutual art." he offers to the Taniford lady, the two of them continuing their chat.

Stefan does join cheering. Though a bit in his own mind as he enjoys the drink and food. "Did I miss something?" Comes his words after the a moment to his sister. Seemingly keeping a bit to himself at the moment but starting to look around a bit. Having kept a lower profile.

"Then eat, drink and be merry," Pawel calls out, before seating himself again, letting out a bit of a breath. Taking another sip of his goblet now, one hand going to his forehead very briefly, before he looks out at the crowd again.

Nodding lightly, Prada turns her attention with emerald gaze not to the champions but to her brother. The keeper of all things to the young lady and lifts her goblet in toast to him, her smile blossoming as she watches him a moment with pride and admiration. A mane of ebon weaves a glistened cloak around her lithe form as she turns to Samwell, a brow perched high on an ivory forehead, as a haughty smirk creeps over rose lips upon the mention of Krakensteel to another. "Two is easy is enough, though we may want to change it a bit in light of a recent concern."

A faint 'hmmm' comes from Elenore as the drink of wine is had and Lyam directs the conversation toward the sketchings that had been done. "Oh, aye…I would be most delighted to turn them into paintings. You did such a fine job in catching up the details, Lord Lyam, that it should make it easy enough for me to create paintings from them. Were there many of them you were wishing to see this done for and put on display, my Lord?"

"Aye, there are. We could be busied for quite a while." Lyam starts to say, but at a subtle cue from his brother, the young Lord clears his throat. "Lady Taniford, if you will accompany me?" he asks. Why? Because the young man turns towards the evening's entertainment and gives a nod to the band. The small group picks up and starts to play, dolcet and warm tones urging people to rise and join in the same merriment that Lyam just invited Elenore to - the dance beginning finally on the wide floor near the tables, as servants start to clear plates and serve up small desserts and drinks for those that wish to linger at the tables.

The doors of the Lord's Hall open once again, allowing a tall knight to pass among them. Aethel might be a bit late for the feast, but he doesn't allow himself to be less elegant for it, his red silk doublet has received some special care, being covered by many silver colored adorments with the heraldy of the Varghem House. Many jewels adorn his hands and neck.

The Varghem approach his relatives with a smile, "I apologise for being late, brothers, sister, cousins. There were a couple of things I had to check in my quarters." He informs, "Have I missed much of the fun?"

"I adore to paint, my Lord, so I do not think I shall mind that it could keep us buys for a time." Lifting her eyebrows a little when he clears his throat and the question is made. Elenore returns her wine goblet to the table before giving a slight incline of her head to Lyam,"Of course, Lord Varghem. Rising to joing him, a hand settling upon his arm to be escorted towards the dance floor with the band starting up.

Roltoff makes sure to get the servers to bring him more Mead and meat.. a perfect combination as he watches the nobles carry on and have a godo time. He smiles at the toast to the Champions and takes a healthy swollow of mead in the process.

The Taniford Prince nods to Lyam with a smile in his lips. "I have heard capturing Krakensteel in the paper is the only way to do it. I would love to see the depiction you made, and if Lady Elenore wants to give more life to it with her colors, it would be wonderful." the cup never touched the table again, before raising one more time for a sip. But, yet again, it has not reached its destination when words stop it in the middle of its motion. "We may need to adjust it a little, yes." is softly muttered to Prada.

"Sir Aethel, welcome." Samwell greets, returning quickly to add to the lady wolf, "Your brother Aethel could beat me, quite easily, in the horse race. A fine and skilled rider, a family trait, I am sure."

Raising his goblet momentary in Prada's direction, Pawel offers his sister a smile, although it might seem a bit tired now. He then looks to Aethel as he enters, offering a brief grin. "Only the main meal, brother. I'm sure you know what to do to get hold of some food still, though." Spoken quite lightly, before he looks around once more. "As always, it's been fun with a tourney, but it'll be good with some peace and quiet again, though."

Leading Elenore out onto the floor as the first song starts, Lyam settles his hands chastely on the Lady's and starts to twirl gently with her across the floor, the two of them practiced in the art as he takes the natural lead for the couple, the young man giving a grin as he seems to be well-trained. Perhaps why he was able to handle his footsteps so easily as he speaks quietly with the Lady as they try to spark interest and tempt others to join them.

As people start dancing and so far Stefan has disappeared in the crowd as well. To find and dance. Some might spotting him dancing with Carisse somewhere. It does take awhile but soon enough he does make his return to try and find his sister.

Aethel moves to get a comfortable seat in his family table, glancing to sight Lyam dancing with Elenore with a smile before he turns back to Samwell, "Maybe, those events are rather unpredictable, cousin. However, the sword on foot it's more precise, only the very best wins." He suggests, leaning to get a glass of mead from a servant, "I hope there are more songs, maybe I shall find someone to dance later."

As the part continues and the dancing begins. Being left alone at the far end of the <commoner's> table, sits roltoff, he shakes his head and downs the last of his mead. Then quietly as the others at the far end continue to mingle and chat, Roltoff stands up without making too much noise and with a polite nod to the guard stationed at the door proceeds to make his exit. He understands as a commoner that this really isn't his place and so tries to be as descrete as possible.

A warm smile is given to Samwell,"I shall do my best to give it life, even if a painting is only ever a fraction of the real truth." Before Elenore is lead along to the dance floor to tempt others to it. The Lady Taniford is effortlessly lead within the dance, a creature of elegence and grace to be guide about the dance floor within the twirling step of the dance by the young Lord. A faint smile coming with the chastness of it all, though it warms as the quiet conversation springs up between them.

Eldrick had lapsed back to drinking and eating some of the fruits that had been brought out as a dessert type, going back to speaking with his siblings though his eyes do look out to the floor, watching as some of the nobles take up to dancing. "Excuse me, dear sisters, I'm going to walk a bit. If I remain seated here, I'm afraid I'll just eat some more and that will not do." With a bow of his head, he rises from his seat and begins to slowly make his way away from his table, perhaps searching for one noble in particular.

Fayre is late, and for a princess that's probably not so much fashionable as deplorable. The only reason her hair and dress are perfect is because her governess barred the door until everything about the princess was fastidiously arranged. She arrives almost out of breath and slips into her place at the tables with a look less sheepish than cunning. Hah. She made it.

Pressing her lips together in silence, eyes narrowing in measure as Roltoff stands and begins to leave, Prada rises gracefully and moves toward the man. Softness tarries in her demeanour, her gaze melting in the kindled light, a light wordless nod offered in understanding, "Come now, you have naught reason to leave. Come, sit with me and drink mead. We shall share secrets of wildest kind. Pay them no heed, they pay enough to themselves as it is." she softly teases with the man as she motions toward a table.
Elenore whispers to Lyam.

There could have been a slight misstep, but Lyam makes it an effortless transition as the music turns to something more upbeat and warm, a lively step as Lyam drifts back to link his fingers to Elenore's as the two move about the floor, a lift of her arm to twirl her before they come back together, the music cheeful.

Roltoff, having managed only a few feet, is stopped cold by the voice behind him and as he slowly turns around his eyes fall upon the lovley lady who's addressing him. He then points to himself. "Me?" he looks around and licks his lips, while walking closer the the lady in question. "what could I possibly bring to the table that these lords and ladies can not?" Thought the mention of mead makes him look at his Empty tankard and that.. above all else get a impish grin out of him. "Lady you sure don't know what your getting yourself into with a statement like that."
Its then a passing server goes by and instead of stopping to refill his tankard with Mead, roltoff just takes the whole decanter of mead and sets his tankard on the servers tray before joining the lady in question. "Oh where do we begin.. " he says with a grin.

Pawel finishes his drink, and looks around rather carefully once more. Smiling a little as he sees his sister moving over to Roltoff, before he just looks around once more. "Looks like people are enjoying themselves," he remarks, to nobody in particular.

If thee was a misstep made, least it was not onto Elenore's toes. Or if was, least she has been trained well enough not to cry out in pain. Drifitng well enough into the turn of the music, stepping lively with and counter to her partner as the dance calls for. A graceful twirl is executed, her skirts flaring out in the motion before she is drawn back in and the dancing continues on.

The Princess late arrival is followed by Aethel attentive eyes, who quickly of her a wave as greeting, "Cousin, it seems I'm not the only one who took some extra time to take care of our appearance, be welcome." He says, raising his glass of mead to the Taniford.

"Indeed they seem, brother. We have been the most remarable guests these days, don't you think?" The knight asks to Pawel, speaking in a more serious tone by now, "They make it seem like a easy task, but when you hold two historically opposed factions under your roof and manage to keep the peace, you are worthy of praise."

With the music leading the dancers, Amira had drifted out to the garden briefly and is now only making herself back inside. She stands at the entrance, blue eyes taking in the movement of the dancers and the ones not out and dancingm but talking amongst themselves. It looks to be a lovely celebration in fact.

Her expression alters in anticipation, the dappled light dancing over ivory cheeks and Prada grins mischievously, "I assure my good man, I know exactly what I am getting into. It is nothing I am not willing to say to each directly." Moving toward a table, one with nobels present, the Lady wolf sits easily waving a hand toward a chair for Roltoff, "To be frank I have most likely said it to most all ready. Commoner or noble makes little difference of title given at birth if one does not live up to the expectations of such."

Having missed the food, Fayre partakes of the lighter deserts— fruits mostly. She then sits back in her chair, lazily eating grapes in small bites. "Oh hello!," she greets Aethel with a sedate smile, something about her air like a cat who just ate the canary. "Yes we're really behaving very nicely aren't we? But perhaps just to keep up tradition I should go slap Prince Stefan."

"Welcome, sister." Samwell greets warmly, losing big part of the attention he had put into his cup. "How are you? You missed the feast, but I think there are some desserts around. Do you want me to bring you some?" the knight looks at Prada and Roltoff, then bad to Aethel. "I couldn't attend the sword competition, but I watched part of it and it was a fine spectacle, yes." he answers just a bit distracted. The music, the dancers, and the general noise, seem to weight a little on the Prince, managing to keep smiling, but looking around as if searching for someone. As the Taniford Princess speaks, he lets out a laugh and a nod. "Go slap him, Fayre."

The Lohstren Heir's slow steps around the outskirts of the room takes his time to greet the nobles who recognize him and congratulate him on his successes, a kind word and bow of head given in response before moving on. Eventually, his feet does take him towards the exit to the gardens and there he sees the rather familiar Rhaedan Princess and her red and gold attire. Approaching her, he bows his head in greeting, "Princess, quite the feast tonight isn't it. A very good end to a excellent tourney."

Roltoff glances up briefly at hearing the Dukes comment and then looks at the lady and smiles at her reply before he sits down and places the decanter inbetween them so that should she wish some its availible. "Well then as I've rarely heard all that you've most to say, perhaps you'd like to tell me?" as he finds an empty goblet and wash's it out with water before filling it with mead and draining half the goblet. " he then wipes his chin and asks. "so out of all the nobles present why would you find one such as I worth while to talk too?" his tone relays his genuine curiousity.

The Varghem Lord and Taniford Lady continue to dance and talk to each other, before finally the music dies down into something more sedate, and Lyam considers Elenore for a moment. His words remain quiet for her, but they seem to be turning to turn and rejoin the others.

"Oh Sam don't tempt me," Fayre says, in response to the invitation to follow through with her suggestion of violence. "What do you think his reaction would be? Oh let's make a game of it. You guess what he'll do and then I'll…find out!"

After his dance Stefan is mostly just wandering the area, trying to find his sister. Spotting her coming in from the gardens and he waves before trying to move towards her. Bringing him by the newly arrived princess. "Your highnesses." He offers to the Tanifords with a bright smile before looking to any others with a nod as well. Spotting that Aethel is looking over as well. "My lord." Greeting anyone else appropriately as well. Turning back to Fayre and Sam. "Enjoying yourselves I hope?" Moving to his sister, unless she is making her way over.

With a glass of mead in one hand and a fan held in the other, Rae is standing on the edge of the room, surveying those who have lingered to dance, see and be seen, socialize and gather snippets of gossip to cultivate and harvest at a later date.

Amira is only watching and not participating at the moment when a familiar voice greets her. Lifting her gaze to rest on the Lohstren Heir, her lips curve in a smile. "Sir Eldrick," returning the bow of her head. "It was a lovely feast indeed. I think perhaps I drank too freely of the wine, so I found myself needing a walk in the garden. You performed well in the challenges and leave with two wins. That is quite an accomplishment." Catching sight of the wave from her brother, she, too lifts her hand in greeting and a loving smile towards Stefan, seeing him detaining himself near the Tanifords.

With the music becoming edate once more and several dances already shared, Elenore turns with Lyam as their quiet conversation is yet had. Her hand slipping to settle properly upon his arm as the move from the dance floor.

Fayre offers Stefan a cheshire grin as he greets her and then makes his inquiry. "Well I thought we might play a game if you'd assist us, your highness," she tells the Rhaedan prince.

With a smirk on his face, Aethel greets the Rhaedan Prince, "Your Highness, be welcome." He says, covering his roguish expression with a sip of the mead. "It's a pity you couldn't, cousin, but let's hope you will be able for the next tourney? I would like to see which of us it's the best swordsman." The Varghem knight says to Samwell.

Pawel gets to his feet now, starting to move into the crowd, steps a little slow. They take him over in the direction of the Tanifords, Aethel and Stefan, though. Getting hold of another goblet on the way over. "Cousins, Prince Stefan, Brother. How are you all enjoying the evening?"

Prada eyes the man carefully, taking in the measure of him and softly shrugs, "Why would I not? Do you believe for one moment if you were a man unworthy my brother would have allowed you to enter?" sitting back, the lady takes up not wine but a tankard and drinks deeply from it. "I for one enjoy the different. I know full well what many here are of and about. You are quite another story. As I said, to enter you would have proven yourself in some fashion. Now tell me of it."

"He will let you slap him, a Rhaedan will never say no to a Taniford, that's our little sec—Prince Stefan, how are you?" the Knight of the Citadel can just barely contain a new laugh. And, as he greets him, the wave to the Rhaedan Princess is noticed, and a nod is offered for her. "Of course, cousin Aethel. We can practice together any time you want, as well. But competing in the next tourney is something I am really looking forward to. Duke Pawel," he adds, "A lovely evening, thank you. How are you?"

"The wine was good, very good quality and I found that I had to slow my intake before I make myself a fool on the dance floor." Eldrick says with a chuckle, knowing what Amira is talking about and not surprised that the wine is affecting her more. As for the congrulations, the Lohstren bows his head again, "Thank you, Princess, it was your favor that won the second for me, against my sister who is quite skilled with the blade. Though I was close to winning a third but Lady Carisse was better on the horse." Then a mischievous grin appears and Eldrick extends an inviting hand to Amira, "Would you honor a two-time champion a dance or two, Highness?"

Seeing his sister starting to speak with Eldrick he let her have a moment while he stay with the Tanifords. Raising a brow to Fayre. "Is that so? What kind?" He asks sweetly, trying to sound innocent. "Your grace. It has been quite well. You have been good hosts." He offers to the duke. Turning to Sam and laughing a bit as well. "Quite well."

Roltoff looks at the lady (prada) and smiles. "Well I guess it depends on the fact the His Highness Prince Stefan helped sponser me when I asked what it'd take to enter the Tourney. I am a Sellsword, and up until this event I thougth one of the best but after several events I see I still have much to learn. To date I've done a bit to help out around Lake Town, even assisted in getting several nobles out of a burning Tavern set ablaze by some Zelots. Currently Myself and Sir Rae and a few others are tracking down bandits who've attacked some well to do merchants." he drains his goblet and refills it and depending on how empty yours is he'll offer to refill it too. "I've traveled a lot, trying to offer my services to whom ever would need it but so far It seems that those who could afford to pay for my skills, already are as gifted or more so in them."

"Well I think if I told you it would spoil the game," Fayre says archly, canting her head as she gazes at Stefan. "But you must promise to be quite good natured about it all, if the game is to go forth, and to not hold me accountable. For I have been as good as dared by my relative, and a girl must do what she is dared to do." That's probably the opposite of all her lessons.

Leading Elenore back over to the others, Lyam smiles brightly as Eldrick praises the wine. "Hopefully Prince Samwell realizes I took his words to heart this morning, then." he says as he coveres Elenore's hand on his arm with his other one for a moment. "I hope everyone is enjoying themselves?"

"The wine is exceptional indeed." Heat rises in her cheeks and Amira dips her head in acknowledgement. "My favor? I thank you for the vote of confidence, though your skill was unmatched in both events." For a moment, her gaze drifts to the Tanifords and her brother and she catches the nod and returns a smile, realizing her brother would be remaining there a bit. With a quick flash of a warm grin to Eldrick she acknowledges the invitation. "It would be a pleasure, Sir Eldrick, I am honored at the invitation." Slipping her hand into his.

The evening is winding down, the sun begins setting low on the celebration of the closing feast of what everyone is considering to be a very successful tournament in Wolveshire, pats on the back have been given, new friendships formed, successes, defeats. An ending that may bring a mix of emotions from elation to melancholy. Suddenly the quiet music and dancing is interrupted by a loud commotion at the entrance of the Lord's Hall. There's yelling and orders to clear the way as four grim looking Blue Guards walk in carrying a sling covered in a white cloth. The cloth drapes over the edges of the makeshift stretcher, and look to be covering the shape of a human form.
Eldrick pages: Whaaaat.

An odd question comes from the little wolf in the form of a whisper, with an arched brow, "Of….which gave…for…" Prada leans back a bit looking around and watching each closely as she waits for answer. Though her voice continues to carry easily, "Wonderful fresh meat. Daft idiots should have brought it to the kitchens. I suppose the expect us to fillet it ourselves?"

"All those years of individual training finally paying off," Rae interjects as she strolls near to where Roltoff and the Lady to whom he is speaking are standing. She inclines her head politely to the Lady, "Good eve to you," she offers before glancing around, "lovely banquet, was it not?" Before she turns back with that same smile on her face, "I'm Sir Moirae Lohstren, sister to Lord Eldrick, Lady Collette and of course our Lady Morla."

Fayre is quick to notice things, and though she's on the verge of glee with the escapade she is devising at Stefan's expense, she's quick to see something is amiss— and quick to lose her smile. She glances quickly from the newly arrived Blue Guards to her brother.

"Well enough, Prince Samwell," Pawel replies with a bit of a smile, before he nods at Stefan's words, "I'm glad to hear that," he offers. Fayre's words making him pause for a few moments, before his attention is caught by the Blue Guards entering, and the makeshift stretcher. "Something you told them to bring?" he asks to Samwell, before he starts making his way in their direction, hopefully together with his Royal cousins.

Every trace of an answer is erased. Every hint of a smile fades out, and there is only curiosity in Samwell's eyes. The Prince raises to his feet, watching the Blue Guards and what they bring. His lips find a hard time to let a word out, but in the middle of the evident mixture of emotions, he just manages to say, "What happened?"

Taking the Rhaedan Princess's hand into his, Eldrick begins to lead Amira towards where the others are dancing but before the two reaches their destination to begin an enjoyable dance, the disturbance occurs. Slowly to a stop, the Lohstren Heir's brows furrow into puzzlement and surprise, pulling the Princess at his side just a little closer. When the Blue Guards are seen, carrying a white cloth inside, Eldrick's expression darkens as he has a very bad feeling about what is to be revealed, a couple of quiet words spoken to Amira.

Falling quiet, Lyam steps back as his well-prepared banquet are interupted as he leads Elenore away from the action as the Blue Guards arrive with the figure.

Stefan chuckles and nods to Fayre. "Is that so? Well, fine. I am in." He offers and smiles. "It sounds bad, but alright." Just grinning at her. Turning towards the others that are near. Grinning to them. But as the blue guards come in he raises a brow as he looks over. Quietly watching.

As soon as they walk to the center of the room after spotting the Taniford guests, they halt their progress abruptly on command from the leader. When they stop… the sheet shifts at the upper end of the stretcher and like something from a horrific nightmare the head of Princess Aylanora Taniford, Heir of House Taniford teeters at the edge of the cloth before falling with a heavy thud to the floor. Someone from somewhere lets out an ear piercing scream. Panic ensues as guest rush out, bumping each other, the guards, the sling, some unfortunate Lord from Sollinger catches his sheathed sword on the sheet and it tugs it off, revealing the otherwise fully intact body of the Princess, dressed in a plain black dress. Pinned to the dress is a note easily legible by any nearby.

The unworthy shall continue to perish in a fiery pillar of retribution to Kharnas. Princess Kerilyn Rhaedan has already been taken and shall be made the second example.

A warm smile is given to Lyam from Elenore as they make their way over to the group. A gentle smile spared for each of them when they do get close enough. Though with attention turning toward the doors, Elenore's does as well. Taking in the Blue Guards, the sling between them and her hand tightens slightly on Lyam's arm. Easily being pulled back and away by Lyam.

As the Blue Guards arrive, Aethel stands up from the table, glancing around to find his family members as he waits for words to clarifly what it's happening. The knight places the glass of mead in the table, as if he isn't in the mood for driking anymore.

Fayre has risen from her chair as well, by now. She is not the one to scream, though it might be reasonable for anyone to look at her upon hearing the scream, for what female present could possibly be more appalled, more horrified? The shock's effect upon her, however, draws not a sound. She recognizes the face instantly, the long beautiful hair, and the blankened eyes. For the moment, she is struck deaf and dumb, a hand over her mouth, her own eyes unable to look anywhere else.

The words from Eldrick are all Amira needs and she does remain closeby, but it does not stop the grisly view she gets of the former Heir to Taniford. Averting her gaze as soon as she sees it, it is too late, the view will ever be indelibly imprinted in her mind. Making a small strangled sound in her throat, she puts the heel of her hand to her lips and shudders in horror.

A single glance is sent around the room, taking note of the location of each of her siblings before Rae moves forward, her pace cautious but brisk as she wades through the fleeing and scurrying nobles to get a look at the note and guard the area around the resting place of the decapitated head of Princess Aylanora.

No doubt arriving with another Sollinger Lord, Tyler comes to a halt just shy of the scene, and he comes to a halt with wide eyes and hands fallen to his side. "Oh my. Terribly sorry," he utters to no one in particular, as if to excuse the accidental unveiling. With a reddening face, he shuffles then into the background, skirting towards someplace less out of the center of attention.

When the contents are unveiled through the momentum shift, revealing the grizzly head of the Taniford Princess, Eldrick winces and turns his head slightly before realizing that Amira has a clear view as well. He quickly pulls at the Rhaedan Princess, to turn her view away from the center of attention into him but he realizes he is too late, seeing the reaction from Amira. For now, he is standing too far away to read the contents of the note that was pinned to the body, unable to find the words for the Princess in this situation as there is a rage building inside the Lohstren Heir. The Taniford Princess, murdered.

There's a few moments without any kind of reaction from Pawel as he keeps on looking at what remains of the heir to the Kingdom. But then he looks straight to the guards that brought her in. "Not in here, you fools!" he growls, taking another few steps forward. Looking about to say something else, he realizes the damage is already done, and instead he moves over to Fayre, to put an arm on his cousin's shoulder and attempting to turn her away from the scene in front of them.

Stefan clenches his jaw as he sees the princess. And with the message it only shows more on his face. Not making any sound though. Glancing to Samwell as well as Fayre. Trying to see the Taniford's reactions. Giving Fayre's shoulder a gentle squeeze if she allows. Watching from where he is without saying anything. He does look to Pawel at his reaction though. Able to agree with it.

Roltoff looks the lady and sighs, "sorry lady, seems my hearing isn't what it once was, when stuffed to the Gills with good food and even better mead. " he smiles a bit. " Well the price for my services remains the same, so that pretty much anyone who can afford will, as for what I do well that's to protect my client even if it were to mean my life. The fee I charge is a silver florin a month." he sips more mead. "Short of my client cancelling the agree'd upon contract or violating it, I'd remain in their service. "

The gaze of the Taniford Prince burns as it never did before. If there was fire in them, now a raging flame emerges, one as high and powerful that could easily burn the Blue Guards alive. Because, as soon as the picture of the death Princess has been drawn in his mind, it is to those who sworn to protect them who receive his wrath.

A step at a time, and as the distance dies out slowly, the hands turned into fists tremble noticeably. The silver armor, always shinning, doesn't reflect the darkness now casted by its wearer. The blanket is put again on the body, covering the horror, just for the shadowy flame to return to the guards.

"You." the coldest of voices speaks to the commander. "You told me to step aside and let you find my sister. Your future Queen." the distance is even shorter. And this is what you did? You assigned your forces to escort us in a tourney, you assured us nothing would happen. You forgave me to do what I was meant to. You, sir," Samwell's words are slow, filled in rage, but never being a shout, "Are not worth of the cloak you wear." a deep breath is taken, meeting the man's eyes.

"My brother has the right to command the Blue Guard. But his position as ambassador prevented him, leaving such a position to someone who brought his heir dead. I may have failed to keep her safe once, but now I reclaim, here, in front of all this people, my right to assume the command. And, I swear you, under me no other Taniford will be brought this way."

Pulling Elenore to him so she doesn't have to see what has become of her Royal Cousin, Lyam buries his head against her shoulder and looks towards the others. "Take the body into the antechamber. Start getting everyone out of here that doesn't need to be here." the young Lord says to the servants so they can start to marshall together. He looks firmly towards Elenore. "Come with me." he says quietly to her, leading her away from the carnage.

Tight bodices, too much drink, not enough food, and an afternoon's rough ride don't lead to the most stable of conditions for 16 year old girls. Throw in a grisly decapitated sister, and can anyone be surprised that Fayre doesn't manage to stay on her feet? It's lucky that Pawel is moving toward her, for the remaining Taniford daughter seems to faint.

The damage is done, yes, and while Rae is carefully guarding the decapitated head of the heir to the Kingdom, she also is studying the remains while words are spoken, anger is voiced, slow rage leashed and issued by Samwell. She is careful to not disturb the body, respect evident in every move as the ladies in the audience are being swept away by their escorts or the noblemen protecting them. "Now is neither the time nor the place, your grace," she says in a low voice aimed at Samwell as she crouches beside the body, her gown swept neatly to the side but not as much caring about fashion sense as she is about the remains of the princess.

A moment to late, for Elenore's dark eyes go wide as a hand flies to her mouth somehow keeping in the scream that threatened, only a terrified squeak manages to slip to witness what has been done to her Cousin and future Queen. That other hand tightens ever upon upon Lyam's arm as the scene becomes etched forever into her memory. Allowing herself to be pulled in, to no longer look at what will never be forgotten. Her head burying some to Lyam's shoulder, as eyes shut, trying to shut it all out. But she does lift her head to give him a nod, not trusting herself to properly anwer him, even if there is perhaps a stray murmur to herself as they go.

Prada stands in silence reaching out to grip the sellswords arm and pulls him along with her toward her to Samwells side, "Whatever your Lord has paid, I can pay twice. Stand along with him." she whispers quietly as she takes up her place near the new claimed commander. "There shall be no challenge here. The position by right is his as is the heirship to Princess Fayre." Stepping aside, the lady pulls back the blanket to remove the message pinned to the dress and hands it toward the Prince.

Absent words for the moment, Aethel moves closer to his older brother with a slow pace, he seems definitely shocked by the tidings, "Duke," He says, after some moments of hesitation, "Is there any way I may be able to help?"

As those gather around, it is apparent the Princess has not been dead for all that long, though her body is stiff, there is no horrifying odors. The note is on a torn bit of parchment, the writing is very precise and legible, someone having taken the care to assure it would be read. Would be understood. The spokesmen of the Blue Guards is holding the right front edge of the makeshift sling and he orders people."Back, get back!" His eyes burn with fire as he is confronted by the Prince, yet he replies nothing in return as of yet except to incline his head. When he declares he is taking over the command, again he inclines his head. "Yes, Your Highness." His words are terse, his voice tightly controlled. "Where would you like us to take her, Sir?"

Amira buries her face against the tunic of Eldrick as he puts himself into the line of sight between her and the most grisly scene before her. Her shuddering has lightened and she attempts to draw on a well of strength she did not even know she possessed. Yet.. she has no idea bout the note, or her sister. Thankfully.

Since Stefan was already at the side and hand on Fayre shoulder he does help Pawel as he comes over to help catch her. Having a hold on her as well. Listening and nodding to what Samwell offers. "We need to do something." He offers. Shaking his head a bit.

The command to move back causes Sir Rae to rise to her feet again, still studying the remains with a cool - almost cold - look in her eyes. Right now she is not just a party guest, glancing at Samwell to hear his answer.

Slipping an arm around Amira, Eldrick does his best to try to help sooth the traumatized Rhaedan Princess, stroking her back while his head turns to continue to observe the scene. The exchange between the Taniford Prince and ex-Captain of the Blue Guards definitely noted and what appears to be a note being handed over to the new Captain of the Blue Guards.

Manging to catch Fayre before she hits the floor, Pawel takes a few deep breaths. Offering a quiet nod to Stefan for his help, he then looks over to Samwell. "Where did they find her?" he asks, while trying to move his fainted cousin over to one of the nearest chairs now. "And they should take him out to the antechamber for now." Looking to Aethel, he pauses for a few moments, looking quite unsure of what to say.

Roltoff moves to Prince Samwells side, and looks to prada.. "lady so far nobody's paid me anything.. " his eyes look around and fall up on the dead princess and his gut wrenchs hard, "Oh dear god…." his fist clenching tightly as he moves to grasp the sword that's back in the room he was lent before the feast began.

Elenore is led away by Lyam, her mutters noticed by the young noble as he walks Elenore out of the room and to a place she can rest easily for a few moments.

Samwell's eyes, burning even higher, slip to Rae. It is clear he wants to answer, words seem to hurt him as they cannot be set free. But, for a reason or another, he just turns back to the Blue Guard.

Prada's words are received with a nod. No more words, once more, but a nod of acceptance. It is not a challenge what is casted, not even when the now-former commander steps down of his position. "Take her to the Royal Suite for now. No one will sleep there tonight. And I hope it helps you to remember who she was." the burning eyes finally leave the man, now crystalline in tears, tightening his lips. The note is read, but his hand turn to a fist, once more, paper inside. "You." he says firmly to every knight in blue cloak around. "Where did you found her?" Samwell repeats Pawel's answer, turning to the remaining guards and men-at-arms. "Take her out. Now."

Fayre's loss of senses is not utterly complete, and since she is caught by both Pawel and Stefan, before she can hit her head on the edge of the table, her eyes are quick to flutter open.. It's probably a good thing she didn't overhear the comment about being the new heir apparent, for, even if it is the presumed outcome, it might be one shock too many for a day. Fayre never for a moment accepted her sister was even in any danger, after all, and said so frequently.
Deposited in her chair, she lets her head rest back while a pair of servants feverishly fan her flick water on her face, though after only a few seconds of that she tells them to 'go away!' Then she puts her hands over her face, rubbing her eyes roughly.

"We had search parties out everywhere and since there were so many.." *Cough* "Northerners here, we thought to look around here too." The Former commander says in the same terse voice. "My hunch paid off. She was found in the Ruins just outside of the town proper." With an almost sneer, he looks back at the others with a nod. A command. "Excuse me your highness." Stepping around them to deliver the former Heir to the Royal Suite.

Protected by Eldrick now, Amira does not lift her head, she is still unaware of her sister being taken. Only when she is aware that they are leaving does she lift her head and turn haunted eyes to meet his, her chin quivering just slightly as she tries to keep her composure. "This.. I cannot.. I could not even imagine someone who could do something such as this."

Nodding a little bit at Samwell's words, and then as he hears the Guard's reply, Pawel looks around at the various people present for the moment, letting out a bit of a sigh. Still staying near where he is near Fayre at the moment, although he looks over at Samwell. "We will make sure that whoever did this is found, and that they are punished for their deeds," he says, voice kept relatively quiet at the moment.

After glancing over the note, Prada looks up to Roltoff the often blunt Lady of Varghem nods and turns her attention toward former commander, "Who is it Sir, she came to be taken on your watch and you just happen to have a hunch that pays off as well?" the lady then spins on her hell, anger and suspicion writ upon her brow, cold emerald eyes settling on the Northerners, "Better yet, how is it the note claims one of your own was taken, yet only one body returned? Not even so much as a hair from the Northerners head to be found? Tell us, how long has the former Commander been in your service?"

Looking down at the distraut Princess, Eldrick appears to be studying her very genuine reactions, nodding his head finally, "There were a lot of possibilities but someone daring enough to go this far… they have a death wish. This will definitely not go unanswered, whoever is guilty." He is certain that Amira is not involved but for the others of the North? Without the news of Kerilyn also missing, the possibility is still there but he certainly won't speak of it in front of the Rhaedan.

As the scene gets a little bit dreadful, but not less gloomy, Aethel now seems to get more vigor, "If I may, Your Highness, the defenses should be risen now as this might generate chaos and there are so many people who might try to profit from it." He suggests, keeping a considerate tone as if he is a bit afraid to not appear respectful with the events.

"I understand. But you /stay/ here." the new commander of the Blue Guard says coldly to the former one - just in time for Prada's words to give him a new motif to avoid moving away. Samwell's gaze return, yet again, to the man. "What do you have to say? But, wait." glancing to the guards in the hall, a new order is spoken. "As your Prince, I command you to arrest this man. But let him be here for our chat." giving enough time for the men-at-arms to follow, or not, his order, he continues. "Now, you can start your answer. Take your time."

Nodding a little as he hears Samwell's words, Pawel nods as some of the men moves to comply with the Prince's orders. Meanwhile, the Duke waves the Captain of the Wolveshire guard over, speaking a bit more quietly to the man now. "Please make sure that neither Princess Amira nor Prince Stefan leaves the castle. In light of recent events, I see no other course of action than to make them extended guests. They are to be afforded courtesy due to their positions, but will not get to pass through the gates." That done, he looks to Stefan, before he adds, "Prince Stefan. The two of us need to talk with your sister."

Stefan is about to open his mouth with the news and all of it. Showing anger but it is railed in as he hear Pawel. "Fine. But let it be dealt with quickly." He shakes his head. Biting his tongue for now. Looking to Roltoff as well. Not saying anything though.

Through it all, Fayre sits very quietly. Rather sedate, for the spirited princess. She is not hysterical, which might be a good sign— or a bad one. For several minutes, she has not spoken a word or made a sound or moved a muscle below the neck, but now she rises. "I wish to be there, Cousin," she tells Pawel, earnestly, in a tone that would be hard to deny. "Whatever you have to say to them, I want to hear. And whatever they have to respond— that I want to hear as well." She does seem shaken to her very core, but in a subdued way, as if something about her is holding the rest of her together in the face of an event that has literally changed her fate.

Samwell nods at Aethel but his eyes move to Pawel, making clear he is leaving the decision to the Duke in his own lands. And as he speaks, the Prince intervenes once more. "We all need to talk, Princess Fayre and I will join you."

The Commander does stay as ordered and as the others take the body away, he faces the Prince, a stoic expression on his face. "I do not work for the North." His voice is icy cold now. "I would never work for the north." His face shows conviction. When he is arrested, he doesn't fight it, instead his burning gaze remains on the Prince. "I have worked all of my life in service to your family, and this is how I am repaid?"

Roltoff looks to stefan and shrugs as he's got no clue as to what's going on. Roltoff knows he's in no position to do anything until things settle down and talks can be concluded. He just wish's they'd been able to secure the princess so many days ago back on the docks.%

Starting to walk over, Pawel only gets a few steps before he stops as he hears Fayre's words. Studying her for a few moments, he nods to her. "Come along. And you too, yes." That last part offered to Samwell, before he lets out a bit of a sigh, starting to move over in Amira's direction, hoping the others follow now.

"You will be correctly repaid when we know the truth. That I promise. You will be treated with justice, and you will get what you deserve, one way or another." the Taniford Prince speaks in solemn voice, although still tinted in anger, as it could not be otherwise. "Take him away. He will be our extended guest as well, but maybe not in a suite." the black cloak waves as he turns around to join Pawel in his way.

It was the words from Prada that catches Amira's attention first. No, not the accusation but the… "One of our own was taken?" Looking back at Eldrick, she seeks him to explain what she does not understand. When Pawel gives the command to detain her and her brother, she takes a step towards him. "Your Grace?" Truly, truly confused. Hurt. "How could you think I would be responsible for… this?" Unable to even find a word that would relay the depth of horror she feels at the whole sight she had witnessed. "Stefan?" Why were they suddenly the bad guys?

"Can you go fetch Sparrow and bring her to me? She's in the stable," Fayre says quietly to one of the maidens who is always accompanying her. She then turns to follow Pawel. She looks toward Amira as if she'd like to say something diplomatic, something like her sister would say, but words fail the princess, for perhaps the fist time ever. Her expression becomes a little helpless. After a moment all she can manage is to say, "If for no other reason than your own safety. Word will spread…"

As his brother starts to move and call for the Northern nobles, Aethel wanders closer to Prada, a somber expression kept as he approaches, "Are you alright?" He questions, brows quirking in some concern. The Varghem nods to Fayre, seeming pleased by first words of diplomacy.

Stefan offers a hand towards his sister, to bring her over to him. To be able to keep her close. "They are ignorant." He explains with a shrug before watching Pawel. "If something happens to one of ours because you keep us locked in, then you will be held responsible. Or keep us as 'guests' as you put it." Shaking his head. Making sure that he has Amira at his side before he will follow along.

Roltoff stands against the wall behind samwell and lady prada. He shakes his head and isn't sure what to do but knows this is wrong and feels he must go hunt those responsible to clear the wrong done. For now he's been placed in the service of the Tanifords and will have to work within the system to do what he can.

But Amira does not want to go! Shaking her head, she steps away from Stefan, away from Pawel and Samwell and Fayre. "I have done nothing wrong. I have hurt no one.. Please, someone has been taken from my family, who? Who was taken?" She had not been able to read the note.

"Princess Amira, nothing will happen to you. Trust me." Samwell's eyes meet hers for as much time as he can. It is clear it is not easy for him, the whole situation is not, but his words are as kind as they can be. "Please, come with us. You have my word." a hand is extended in her direction. Not necessarily for her to take it, but as a more cordial invitation.

Samwell is the sort who gets scary when angry, Darrin isn't here, Aylanora is…dead. Mother and father don't even know yet. Pawel is read to detain people. Fayre has a bad headache.
But that's sort of exactly what's to be expected now. That's what life will be like, from now on. Responsibility, stepping up, burying dreams. Fayre pauses and puts a hand on the banquet table before turning to look at Amira and Stefan. "Highnesses. You are the Duke's guest— indeed by extension, the guests of all Taniford. But no one in this land will forget the centuries of war or that the peace between us has barely lasted my entire lifetime. Our people will be calling for your heads until we can turn their attention to the real culprit. As our guests, please accept our protection. And please help us to prove your innocence." The words came from somewhere. She's not sure where, since her head feels so empty.

Eldrick remains at Amira's side but as the others are asking for her to join them to talk, there is nothing the Lohstren Heir can do at the moment. At least nothing to prevent the Rhaedan Princess to be taken, he can only offers a couple of words of reassurances, "Guest rights have been extended for the feast, Highness. No one would risk war at this point." Especially if Rhaedan Royalty is also in trouble, and not unless there was concrete proof that the Rhaedan were behind the murder of the Taniford Heir.

Pausing a little as he sees Amira stepping away, he follows after her, but doesn't do anything else at the moment. "You both have my word that you will not be harmed," he speaks a bit quietly now. "And I'm sure none of us are thinking that the two of you have had anything to do with this horrible deed. As soon as we can be certain your family did not have anything to do with it, you will get your freedom." Nodding a bit as he hears Fayre's words as well, he offers her a quiet nod, before he looks to Samwell again, "What did that note say?" he asks, before he looks back to Amira and Stefan. "Inside the castle, you will have the freedom of guests, although I will unfortunately have to insist that one of my guards will have to follow each of you. But you will not be able to pass through the gatehouse for the time being." Trying to meet the northern Princess' eyes now, he adds, "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

Stefan sighs. "Then do send word. We need people to do something." He tells the Taniford sworn, mostly Sam FAyre and Pawel as they are currently in charge. Turning to Amira then, "Kerilyn."

Carisse has been here all along, watching quietly. She moves forward now, as things seem to be somewhat troublesome. Still quiet, but present, and paying attention. There's a tenseness to her posture, and a worried look on her face.

Despite the proverbial sucker punch at hearing her sisters name being the one taken, Amira realizes her brother and herself are the only ones in this entire group who are from the north. She would not be dragged out simpering. With grim determination, she presses her lips together and lifts her chin and walks out ahead of the others, every inch a Princess.

Roltoff gives the Rhaedan princess a smile seeing at how well she's handling herself now. *be the proud noble you are.* Roltoff thinks, and hopes they find who ever took the Rhaedan princess. So that they can be brought to justice.

Fayre could receive word that the earth just swallowed the Summer Citadel, mummy, daddy, and her garden, and she could be in no greater state of numbness than she is now. When she hears that the Rhaedan princess has also allegedly been taken, she is no more dismayed than she was before. It is troubling news but it can have no affect on her already tragically altered state. She's still numb, and numb is…numb.
"Sam…one of us needs to write…mother and father. It should come from our hand and no other," Fay says as they move to follow Pawel. "You," to a random servant who stands watching agape, "Bring paper and ink."

"Of course." Samwell says to his sister, trying to look somewhere else as they walk. "I will." the words are as plain as his answer, but, after all, his concentration lies somewhere else.

Glancing around again to offer a quiet nod and a grimace to all of his siblings still in the room, Pawel lets out a bit of a sigh, before he leads the way out now.

And so, the group of nobles and royals leave the place where a celebration feast was once held.

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